,  3HN-,aMES. MITCHELL 


THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


IN  MEMORY  OF 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Herbert  B. 
Wbrden 


DR   THORNE'S 
IDEA 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 


THE  LAST  AMERICAN. 
AMOS  JUDD. 

THAT  FIRST  AFFAIR 

and  Other  Tales. 

THE  PINES  OF  LORY. 
THE  VILLA  CLAUDIA. 
THE  SILENT  WAR. 


HE    WOULD    HAVE    PULLED    ME    OVER 


DR   THORNE'S 
IDEA 

Originally  Published  as  «  Gloria   Victis" 
By 

John  Ames  Mitchell 

ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  BALFOUR  KKR 


New  York 

Life  Publishing  Company 
1910 


Copyright, 
BY  JOHN  AMES   MITCHELL 


GIFT 


955- 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

BY  BALFOUR   KER 

FACING 
PAGE 

"He  would  have  pulled  me  over"    .          .          Frontispiece 
'<  All  the  muscles  of  the  clinging  body  relaxed  "  .66 

"  Both  marched  with  drooping  heads  "  .  .  .169 

*' — and  caught  the  outstretched  hands  "        .          .          .    179 


289 


This  tale,  in  its  original 'form , 
was  published  in  1899  as  Gloria 
Victis. 

With  the  addition  of  certain 
passages  and  the  revision  of 
others — a  belated  duty  to  Ste 
phen  Wadsworth — the  book  is 
now  presented  under  a  clearer 
title. 


They  say,  best  men  are  moulded  out  of  faults. 

MEASURE  FOR   MEASURE 


DR  THORNE'S 
IDEA 


ON  Staten  Island,  in  the  garden  before  a 
modest  cottage,  a  plump,  sunburnt  little 
girl  was  sitting  among  the  flowers. 
Her  companion,   a  doll   of  uncertain  character, 
whose  champagne  tresses  and  gaudy  attire  betokened 
a  career  of  Gallic  levity,  or,  at  the  very  best,  a 
purely    fashionable    existence,    appeared    strikingly 
out   of   harmony   with   her   humble    surroundings. 
This  pretentious  effigy,  face  down  across  her  guard 
ian's  lap,  was  about  to  receive  the  punishment  we 
associate  with  that  attitude,  when  a  voice  from  the 
road  caused  the  uplifted  hand  to  pause  in  its  de 
scent.     A  horse  and  buggy  had  stopped  before  the 
gate,  and  the  driver  repeated  his  question. 
"Does  Mrs.  Zabarelli  live  here?" 
"  Yes,  sir,  but  she's  not  at  home." 
"  You  expect  her  soon,  don't  you  ?  " 
"  Yes,  sir,  I  guess  so.    At  one  o'clock.'* 
The  man  climbed  down  from  the  vehicle,  hitched 
9 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

his  horse,  and  entered  the  yard.  He  wore  a  long 
linen  duster  buttoned  from  his  throat  to  his  ankles, 
leaving  nothing  of  the  other  raiment  visible  except 
a  white  collar,  the  tips  of  his  trousers,  a  straw  hat, 
and  a  pair  of  russet  shoes.  His  hair  was  gray,  al 
most  white,  hanging  thick  about  his  ears;  and  he 
was  very  round-shouldered.  Judging  from  appear 
ances  he  might  have  been  either  forty-five  or  sixty 
years  of  age,  his  hair  and  figure  seeming  more  ven 
erable  than  his  face.  He  was  clean  shaven,  with 
thin  lips,  a  rather  sharp  nose,  and  a  strong  jaw.  Al 
together  he  gave  the  impression  of  a  conservative, 
indefinable  citizen,  who  could  have  passed  for  any 
thing  from  a  book  agent  to  the  president  of  a  trust 
company. 

The  child  had  struggled  to  her  feet,  and,  as  she 
stood  regarding  him,  he  stopped  in  front  of  her, 
looked  down,  and  smiled.  She  returned  the  smile, 
and  came  a  little  nearer.  She  found,  as  many  others 
had  found,  a  fascination  in  this  person's  eyes. 
They  were  gray,  and  not  remarkable  except  from 
their  excessive  honesty.  Under  all  conditions  they 
appeared  sincere  and  frank;  but  when  the  owner 
smiled,  the  soul  behind  seemed  to  shine  through 
and  out,  convincing  you,  in  a  way  you  had  never 
realized  before,  that  honesty — transparent,  immac 
ulate,  incorruptible  honesty — was,  after  all,  the 

10 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

highest  human  attribute.  As  these  translucent  orbs 
beamed  kindly  upon  the  child,  her  young  heart, 
under  their  supernal  influence,  expanded  with  a 
trustful  love. 

"  Aren't  you  afraid  of  the  sun,  out  here  with  no 
hat  on?" 

"No,  sir;  I  like  it." 

He  took  out  his  watch  and  held  it  a  moment,  ab 
sorbed  in  a  calculation. 

"  Did  your  mother  say  she  would  be  back  by  one 
o'clock?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

He  appeared  undecided,  looking  first  toward  the 
open  door  of  the  cottage,  then  over  the  opposite 
fields  to  the  harbor  beyond,  where  floated  the  craft 
of  every  nation.  The  day  was  warm,  but  a  gentle 
breeze  from  the  water  somewhat  tempered  the  heat ; 
not  enough,  however,  to  cool  the  rays  of  a  blind 
ing  sun  now  directly  overhead.  The  air  near  the 
earth  quivered  beneath  the  scorching  light,  and  in 
this  neglected  garden  stray  bees  and  humming-birds, 
drunk  with  heat  and  honey,  reeled  blindly  to  and 
fro. 

The  visitor's  glance,  drawn  by  the  brilliant  colors, 
rested  for  a  moment  upon  the  pretentious  doll,  now 
pressed  with  loving  care  against  its  owner's  stomach. 
Then,  as  if  to  aid  his  reflections,  he  opened  his 

ii 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

mouth  a  very  little,  drew  in  his  lips,  and  slowly 
rubbed  his  chin.  Perhaps  the  temperature  of  the 
garden  hastened  a  decision,  or  it  may  have  been  the 
nature  of  his  errand,  for,  with  another  smile  to 
his  young  admirer,  he  turned  and  walked  into  the 
house. 

Although  a  diminutive  and  somewhat  uninviting 
room,  the  Zabarelli  parlor  at  the  present  moment 
proved  a  welcome  refuge.  The  air  fluttered  gently 
through  the  closed  blinds,  and  the  subdued  light, 
after  the  outer  glare,  was  soothing  to  the  senses. 
This  room  bore  indications  of  modest  comfort; 
but  the  extreme  simplicity  of  its  furniture  strength 
ened  the  impression  already  given  by  the  exterior  of 
the  cottage  that  Poverty  and  the  Zabarellis  were 
close  companions. 

When  the  stranger  entered  this  parlor,  he  seated 
himself  upon  a  sofa  at  the  further  corner,  facing  the 
door.  The  little  girl,  who  had  followed  close  be 
hind  him,  climbed  into  a  (rocking-chair  and  began 
to  rock,  arranging,  as  she  did  so,  the  skirts  and 
head-gear  of  the  frivolous  foreigner,  all  accompa 
nied  by  coquettish  glances  toward  the  visitor.  But 
he  seemed  absorbed  in  his  own  reflections. 

A  long  silence  was  broken  only  by  the  voices  of 
birds  from  the  neighboring  trees,  and  by  the 
occasional  whistle  of  a  distant  steamer,  hoarse  and 

12 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

iron-throated,  mingling  with  the  shrieks  of  offi 
cious  tugs  as  they  darted  hither  and  thither  on 
their  breathless,  never  ending  business.  At  last 
he  turned  toward  her,  and  again  smiled  pleas 
antly, — an  easy  thing  to  do  as  she  was  an 
attractive  little  person,  whose  laughing  eyes  and 
plump  cheeks  seemed  to  have  brought  some  of 
the  outer  sunshine  into  the  sober  parlor.  Be 
sides,  he  was  fond  of  children,  and  was  himself  a 
father. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Filippa  Whitehouse  Zabarelli." 

"Whitehouse?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Whitehouse  is  not  Italian." 

"Of  course  it  isn't!"  and  she  smiled  as  if 
amused  at  his  ignorance.  "  Whitehouse  is  Ameri 
can.  I  am  named  Whitehouse  after  my  grand 
mamma." 

"Oh,  I  see  !     After  your  mother's  mother?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Then  your  mother  is  not  an  Italian?" 

"  Oh,   no !     She    is    from   Massachusetts." 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  understand." 

And  he  wondered  if  Mrs.  Zabarelli's  nationality 
would  render  his  errand  more  difficult.  He  feared 
it  might.  From  his  own  experience  he  was  well 

13 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

aware  of  wide  mental  variations  between  the  New 
England  woman  of  Puritan  descent  and  the  Latin 
immigrant. 

"  Is  that  your  father  ? "  he  asked,  pointing  to 
a  large  photograph  that  hung  above  the  mantel. 

"  Yes,  sir/' 

If  this  portrait  was  correct,  Signor  Udolfo  Zab- 
arelli  was  a  good-looking  man  who  had  carried  his 
nationality  upon  his  face  with  superfluous  em 
phasis.  Short,  black,  stiff  hair  in  aggressive 
abundance  shot  up  from  a  low  forehead,  and  was 
trimmed  like  the  bristles  of  a  brush — or  a  hawthorn 
hedge — in  such  a  way  that  the  top  of  his  head 
could  assume  any  shape  desired  by  his  barber. 
Alert  eye-brows  darting  away  from  his  nose  at  an 
upward  angle  gave  a  wide-awake  expression  to  a 
firm  but  amiable  countenance.  There  were  in 
dications  of  personal  vanity  of  which  he  obviously 
was  not  ashamed,  and  which  he  took  no  pains  to 
conceal.  A  diminutive,  upturned  mustache  and  a 
little  black  tuft  beneath  the  lower  lip  completed  the 
Italian  effect. 

The  face  seemed  familiar  to  the  visitor.  He 
was  trying  to  remember  where  he  had  seen  it, 
when  the  little  girl,  who  had  stopped  rocking  and 
was  also  regarding  the  portrait,  said  in  a  lower 
voice, — 

14 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

"  He  only  died  a  little  while  ago." 

Then,  after  a  pause,  "  My  papa  was  very  famous. 
He  was  a  great  artist.  Did  you  ever  see  him  ?  " 

The  visitor  shook  his  head. 

"  It  was  lovely  to  see  him  dance." 

Dance?  Then  he  remembered.  Yes,  indeed, 
he  had  seen  him  dance ;  and  then  to  the  daughter  he 
described  the  father  as  he  appeared  upon  the  stage, 
— how  graceful  he  was,  and  how  light  upon  his  feet ! 
His  own  head  used  to  swim  to  see  Zabarelli  spin 
like  a  top  for  an  indefinite  period,  on  the  very  tips 
of  his  toes,  then  stop  with  a  jerk.  And  as  he 
stopped,  facing  the  audience,  he  would  bring  his 
fingers  to  his  lips  with  a  triumphant  smile,  and 
throw  kisses  to  the  right  and  to  the  left. 

His  listener,  as  he  spoke,  slid  down  from  her  rock 
ing-chair  and  came  over  and  stood  between  his 
knees,  a  brown  hand  stroking  the  linen  duster;  and 
there  was  a  happy  pride  in  the  moist,  upturned 
eyes  as  she  listened  to  these  praises. 

:<  Yes,"  she  said  in  a  subdued  voice,  with  a  touch 
of  awe ;  "  and  mamma  says  there  were  ladies  too, 
who  danced  about  him,  just  like  fairies." 

"  Yes,  just  like  fairies ;  "  and  then  he  went  on  and 
told  of  her  father's  agility  and  of  his  wonderful 
effects, — of  his  flying  about  the  stage,  hither  and 
thither,  with  tremendous  bounds,  a  lady  of  the  bal- 

15 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

let  on  either  side.  And  these  ladies,  when  he 
seized  them  by  their  waists,  would  spring  high 
into  the  air,  and  then,  as  he  held  them  at  arm's 
length  above  his  head,  all  a-quiver,  like  ethereal 
spirits,  with  their  fluffy  skirts  and  legs  of  dazzling 
pink,  they  would  smile  and  wave  their  gleaming 
arms,  slowly  revolving  like  gorgeous  lilies  upon  a 
sea  of  music. 

Filippa,  with  wide-open  eyes  and  (parted  lips,  was 
listening  enraptured,  and  expected  more. 

"  But  it  is  three  or  four  years  since  I  have  seen 
him.  Wasn't  he  ballet-master  at  the  opera,  later?  " 

"  Yes ;  Maestro  di  Ballo.  Do  you  know  my 
uncle  Guglielmo  ?  " 

"Goolyelmo?" 

'  Yes;  "  and  she  continued  as  if  repeating  a  diffi 
cult  lesson,  "  Guglielmo  Onofredo  Travaggini  Biffi 
Titinnio  Zabarelli." 

"  Is  that  all  one  uncle  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  he  is  a  dancer  like  papa.  And  what 
do  you  think  he  says  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't  guess." 

"  He  says  I  may  be  a  lady  of  the  ballet,  toa,  if 
I  am  good  and  graceful." 

The  visitor  could  not  restrain  a  smile  as  he 
glanced  down  at  the  fat  little  figure,  writh  its  volu 
minous  waist  and  manifold  rotundities.  And  in 

16 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

the  wide,  cheerful  face  he  detected  a  faint  resem 
blance  to  the  portrait  on  the  wall. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  be  good  and  grace 
ful,  and  you  will  become  taller  and  thinner  as  you 
get  older,  which  will  make  it  easier  for  you  to 
dance." 

"  Oh,  yes!  I  shall  be  a  beautiful  lady:  like 
her!"  and  she  held  aloft  the  doll,  who  appeared, 
upon  a  closer  acquaintance,  even  more  disreputable 
than  before. 

"  No,  I  hope  not!  "  he  exclaimed,  regarding  the 
showy  personage,  who,  as  their  eyes  met,  startled 
him  by  a  prolonged  and  brazen  wink.  This  crea 
ture's  eyes,  originally  designed  to  close  when  in  a 
recumbent  position,  had  become  impaired  by  care 
less  usage  or  by  dissipation,  and  now  moved  in 
dependently  of  one  another,  each  by  its  own  mech 
anism,  in  a  manner  that  could  not  fail  to  aggravate 
any  unfavorable  impressions  already  given. 

"Why  not?"  and  the  child  looked  up  at  him 
with  disapproval.  Her  hair  is  real,  and  her  dress 
is  silk;  just  feel  of  it!  And  look  at  her  shoes! 
She—" 

As  Filippa  spoke,  a  door  opened  in  the  adjoining 
room,  toward  the  rear  of  the  house,  and  the  visitor, 
as  if  startled,  pushed  her  roughly  to  one  side  and 
rose  to  his  feet.  She  looked  up  at  him  in  surprise. 

17 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

He  seemed  to  have  forgotten  her  presence,  and  was 
evidently  disturbed.  With  three  strides  he  crossed 
the  little  room,  and  seated  himself  upon  a  chair 
near  the  open  door  by  which  he  had  entered. 

A  woman's  voice  called, — 

"Filippa!" 

Filippa  answered ;  but  before  she  reached  the  door 
Madame  Zabarelli  entered. 

The  visitor  found  himself  .in  the  presence  of  a 
slight  and  rather  pretty  woman  about  thirty  years 
of  age.  She  was  clad  in  the  deepest  mourning, 
and  with  her  grave  dark  eyes,  sensitive  mouth,  and 
rather  prominent  temples,  gave  the  impression  of  an 
exceedingly  earnest  person ;  of  one  already  familiar 
with  the  darker  side  of  life,  who  took  all  things 
seriously,  and  had  tasted  the  bitter  with  the  sweet. 

Finding  a  stranger  in  her  little  parlor,  she  stopped 
short  in  surprise;  but  after  returning  his  ceremo 
nious  bow  and  the  more  effusive  greeting  of  Filippa, 
she  motioned  him  to  be  seated  and  awaited  his  er 
rand.  With  her  daughter  standing  by  her  side,  she 
sat  upon  the  sofa  he  had  just  quitted,  watching  him 
with  expectant  interest.  For  a  moment  he  hesitated, 
as  if  searching  for  suitable  language.  But  his  hesi 
tation  was  brief.  When  he  spoke  he  smiled  with 
fatherly  benevolence  upon  his  listener,  who  felt,  as 
she  looked  into  his  truthful  eyes,  that  she  was  in 

18 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

the  presence  of  one  upon  whose  integrity,  at  least, 
she  could  implicitly  rely. 

"  I  have  come  on  a  somewhat  unusual  errand, 
Madame  Zabarelli,  but  it  is  one  that  need  cause  you 
no  alarm.  We  merely  desire,  at  the  bank,  to  cor 
rect  an  oversight  before  it  can  cause  you  annoy 
ance." 

Her  face  at  once  became  anxious;  but  he  raised 
a  hand  as  if  to  allay  any  possible  uneasiness. 

"  Excuse  my  not  introducing  myself  at  the  out 
set.  My  name  is  Elijah  Folsom;  I  am  one  of  the 
directors  of  our  bank,  as  you  very  likely  know." 

She  was  not  familiar  with  the  names  of  the  direc 
tors,  which  ignorance  she  indicated  by  an  apolo 
getic  movement  of  the  head. 

"  Some  skilful  rascal,"  he  went  on,  "  has 
palmed  off  upon  our  receiving  teller  over  two 
thousand  dollars  in  counterfeit  one  hundred  dollar 
bills,  and  after  making  an  examination,  about  an 
hour  ago,  we  fear  some  of  them  are  among  the 
notes  in  your  possession." 

At  this  she  arose  in  real  alarm  and  began  to  un 
button  her  jacket.  In  doing  this  she  loosened, 
unintentionally,  a  small  gold  chain  to  which  a 
locket  was  attached. 

"  Lookout,  mamma !  "  cried  Filippa.  "  You  are 
dropping  your  watch !  " 

19 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

Thereupon  Madame  Zabarelli  took  from  her 
pocket  a  heavy  gold  watch,  of  a  foreign  pattern, 
and  laid  it  upon  a  little  table  by  her  side. 

"  But  do  not  worry,  madam,"  he  protested.  "  If 
the  bills  are  counterfeit,  we  shall  make  them  good 
to  you,  no  matter  how  many." 

But  Madame  Zabarelli  was  not  to  be  composed 
so  easily.  The  mere  thought  of  counterfeit  money 
was,  in  her  mind,  so  closely  associated  with  crime 
and  disaster  that  her  fingers  hastily  continued  their 
work,  until,  from  the  inner  recesses  of  her  waist, 
a  roll  of  bills  was  extracted.  These  she  unfolded  in 
an  agitated  manner  and  placed  in  his  hand.  He 
arose,  and,  standing  near  the  doorway  with  his 
back  to  the  light,  examined  each  note  carefully, 
yet  with  a  certain  rapidity.  As  he  came  to  the 
twelfth,  he  said,  with  a  smile,  and  a  gentle  shake 
of  his  head, — 

"  It  is  wonderful  how  clever  the  rascals  are. 
Every  one  of  these  bills  is  a  forgery." 

Madame  Zabarelli's  face  expressed  the  most  in 
tense  anxiety.  But  the  eyes  that  met  her  own  were 
so  calmly  reassuring,  so  brimming  with  paternal 
support,  encouragement,  and  truth,  that  for  a  short 
moment  she  felt  a  happy  relief.  Being  a  woman, 
however,  who  gave  thought  to  all  things  with  tragic 
seriousness,  and  knowing  this  money  was  the  last 

20 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

remnant  of  her  husband's  savings,  the  only  bar 
rier  between  herself  and  absolute  poverty,  her  fears 
quickly  returned. 

"  Shall  I  take  them  at  once  to  the  bank  ?  "  she 
inquired. 

"  Oh,  no !  "  and  placing  them  as  he  spoke  in  an 
inner  pocket,  he  continued :  "  There  is  no  necessity 
for  that.  I  am  going  there  now  myself,  and  to 
morrow  when  you  call  we  will  have  the  good  money 
ready  for  you.  Or,  if  you  prefer,  we  will  send  it 
here  the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning,  or  even 
this  afternoon." 

"  But,  sir,  I  could  not  sleep  to-night  feeling 
this  money,  all  I  have  in  the  world,  was  out 
of  my  hands!  And  something  might  happen  to 
you.  I  think — you  will  understand  my  feeling — 
that  I  will  take  it  to  the  bank  myself,  and  go  at 
once." 

"  But  this  is  not  money/'  Mr.  Folsom  replied, 
taking  up  his  hat.  "  These  bogus  bills  are  of  no 
value  whatever." 

"  They  are  my  only  proofs  of  having  been  paid  by 
the  bank  in  counterfeit  money ! "  she  exclaimed 
rapidly  in  a  high,  nervous  voice. 

He  took  a  backward  step  into  the  hall,  and  was 
plainly  at  a  loss  for  an  answer.  She  extended  her 
hand,  and  exclaimed  in  a  more  positive  tone, — 

21 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"  I  demand  those  bills,  sir !  They  are  mine,  and 
it's  for  me  to  decide  what  becomes  of  them!  " 

"  Do  not  make  a  scene,  madame,"  he  answered, 
still  backing  toward  the  front  door.  "  I  assure 
you  there  is  no  need  of  it." 

But  his  paternal  manner  had  departed.  She 
saw  that  he  meant  to  keep  the  money,  and  her 
anxiety  turned  swiftly  to  a  hideous  fear.  This  fear, 
however,  while  it  blanched  her  cheeks  and  caused 
her  eyes  to  dilate  in  a  sudden  horror,  gave  the  force 
to  act  upon  a  quick  resolve. 

"  I  will  call  the  neighbors,  and  we  shall  see ! " 

But  Mr.  Folsom  was  between  herself  and  the 
outer  door.  Being  a  woman  of  spirit  and  decision, 
and  determined  to  run  no  risks,  she  turned  to  her 
daughter,  pointed  toward  the  rear  of  the  house,  and 
cried, — 

"  Run,  Filippa,  and  tell  Mr.  Kendrick  to  come  as 
fast  as  he  can !  Quick !  " 

At  this  Mr.  Folsom  stepped  hastily  into  the  room. 
Madame  Zabarelli  shrunk  back  with  an  exclamation 
of  horror,  as  he  drew  a  revolver  from  an  inner 
pocket  and  pointed  it  toward  the  child.  The  click 
of  the  hammer,  as  he  cocked  the  weapon,  seemed 
the  voice  of  death.  Filippa  had  started  for  the 
door,  but  her  mother  seized  her  by  the  arm  and 
thrust  the  child  behind  her. 

22 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"  Are  you  a  murderer  ?  "  she  whispered. 

He  lowered  the  weapon. 

"  I  am  whatever  is  necessary  to  avoid  a  disturb 
ance.  If  you  care  for  your  own  life  or  for  that  of 
your  child,  you  will  not  leave  this  house  within  an 
hour.  Friends  of  mine  are  watching  between  here 
and  your  next  neighbor.  And  they  know  what  to  do 
if  you  try  to  raise  an  alarm.  I  wish  you  no  injury, 
but  it  rests  entirely  with  yourself  whether  this  in 
terview  ends  peaceably  or  with  bloodshed." 

Madame  Zabarelli  was  very  pale;  her  breath 
came  quickly,  and  she  leaned  for  support  on  the 
back  of  the  nearest  chair.  His  story  of  the  ac 
complices  she  believed.  She  straightened  up, 
pressed  a  hand  against  her  chest,  and  endeavored 
to  be  calm. 

"  Listen,  sir,  before  you  take  that  money.  It  is 
all  I  have  in  the  world.  It  is  all  that  is  left  of  my 
husband's  savings, — of  our  ten  years  of  hard  work, 
— of  all  our  economy.  Without  it  my  child  and  I 
are  paupers.  We  have  nothing,  absolutely  nothing. 
With  it  I  can  buy  an  interest  in  a  little  business; 
but  if  you  take  it " — here  her  voice  trembled  and 
she  seemed  on  the  point  of  breaking  down;  then 
with  a  strong  effort  she  continued,  "  but  if  you  take 
it  we  are  turned  into  the  street,  homeless,  without 
a  cent  in  the  world." 

23 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  he  interrupted.  "  I  am 
sorry,  of  course,  but  business  is  business;  and  now 
that  you  know  me  better,  don't  be  surprised  if  I  add 
this  to  my  collection; "  and  with  a  step  forward  he 
lifted  her  watch  from  the  table. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  leave  me  that !  "  and  she 
thrust  forth  a  trembling  hand  in  protestation. 
With  the  other  she  threw  back  the  long  veil  that 
had  fallen  before  her  eyes.  Then,  with  quivering 
lips  and  a  torturing  effort  to  be  calm,  she  went  on 
in  an  agitated,  uneven  voice, — 

"  Leave  me  that  watch !  It  was  my  dead  hus 
band's  gift  on  our  wedding  day.  To  me  it  is  more 
than  money.  I — I  will  send  you  its  value  if  I  can 
earn  it;  only — "  At  this  point  the  tears  came 
to  her  eyes  and  her  voice  broke. 

The  watch  was  dropped  into  an  outer  pocket  of 
the  voluminous  duster;  but  as  it  disappeared,  Fil- 
ippa,  in  an  excited,  angry  tone,  cried  out  as  she 
came  between  them : 

"  You  are  a  wicked  man  to  take  that  watch ! 
What  my  mother  says  is  true,  and  you  ought  to  be 
ashamed !  " 

He  looked  down  and  smiled,  but  made  no  sign 
of  returning  the  watch.  As  he  again  stepped  to 
ward  the  hall,  Filippa,  upon  the  impulse  of  a  sudden 
thought,  began  tugging  at  one  of  her  fingers. 

24 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"  Here !  Take  this !  It  is  a  ring  my  grandma 
gave  me,  and  brings  good  luck  to  whoever  wears 
it.  Inside  it  says,  '  God  Bless  the  Wearer/  You 
take  it  and  leave  the  watch ;  "  and  reaching  high 
up  above  her  head  she  thrust  the  ring  toward  him. 
He  took  it,  and,  thrusting  aside  the  winding  of 
thread  that  had  been  adjusted  to  fit  Filippa's  finger, 
he  examined  the  inscription, — 

To  F.  W.  Z.     God  Bless  the  Wearer. 

"  Well,"  he  answered  with  a  ceremonious  bow, 
looking  down  upon  the  upturned,  angry  eyes,  half 
threatening,  half  entreating,  "  I  cannot  refuse  an 
offer  from  such  a  fierce  little  lady ;  "  and  he  re 
turned  the  watch  to  Madame  Zabarelli,  who  seized 
it  with  eager  fingers. 

"  And  now,"  he  continued,  with  a  respectful 
salutation,  first  to  the  mother  and  then  to  the  child, 
"  you  must  excuse  me  if  I  go.  And  remember 
my  advice  about  leaving  the  house  within  an  hour." 

He  turned,  put  on  his  hat,  walked  calmly  out 
of  the  cottage  and  through  the  yard,  unhitched  his 
horse,  climbed  into  the  buggy,  and  drove  briskly 
toward  the  town.  Filippa  stood  in  the  doorway 
as  he  departed,  watching  him  with  sorrowful  eyes. 
To  lose  her  ring  was  a  calamity,  but  it  was  a  heavier 

25 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

blow  that  so  nice  a  gentleman  should  turn  out  so 
badly. 

Her  mother,  pale,  faint,  with  trembling  limbs, 
dropped  upon  the  nearest  chair,  and  buried  her  face 
in  her  hands.  In  another  moment,  however,  she 
started  to  her  feet,  throwing  back  the  heavy  veil 
that  had  fallen  about  her  cheeks.  It  occurred  to 
her  that  the  robber,  from  his  pointing  along  the 
road  when  speaking  of  her  nearest  neighbor,  knew 
nothing  of  the  back  entrance  to  the  street  behind. 
She  consulted  her  watch.  There  was  nearly  an 
hour  before  the  next  ferry-boat  left  the  island. 
She  ran  for  Filippa's  hat,  tied  it  hastily  upon  the 
child's  head,  and  without  stopping  to  lock  up  the 
house,  hurried  through  the  kitchen,  across  the  field 
behind,  through  the  Kendricks'  yard,  and  was  just 
in  time  to  get  a  horse-car  to  the  town. 

She  would  catch  him  yet!  But,  to  her  flying 
spirit,  it  seemed  that  no  earthly  conveyance  ever 
moved  so  slowly.  However,  when  she  stopped  at 
the  police  headquarters  there  was  nearly  half  an 
hour  to  spare.  Ten  minutes  later  the  alarm  had 
been  given,  and  she,  with  the  superintendent  him 
self,  was  at  the  wharf  as  the  boat  came  in.  They 
saw  that  no  one  went  aboard  before  the  arriving 
passengers  had  landed;  then,  in  a  shadowy  corner, 
they  waited  for  the  thief. 

26 


Dr   Thome's  Idea 

At  that  hour  of  the  afternoon  few  people  left 
the  island  for  the  city,  and  the  watchers'  task 
seemed  easy.  Of  the  dozen  or  more  persons  who 
came  down  the  wharf  and  stepped  aboard  they  saw 
no  one  who  bore  enough  resemblance  to  the  bogus 
Folsom  to  excite  suspicion.  Although  the  officer 
at  her  side  impressed  upon  her  the  necessity  of  mak 
ing  the  greatest  allowance  for  disguises, — for  age, 
gait,  and  figure ;  for  wigs,  false  beards,  for  raiment, 
and  even  for  expression, — she  was  positive  that 
none  who  passed  her  could  have  impersonated  the 
man  she  sought. 

She  scrutinized  briefly  and  with  little  interest  a 
man  of  thirty-five  or  forty,  with  short  brown  hair 
and  erect  figure,  clad  in  a  stylish  suit  of  gray,  who 
fanned  himself  with  his  hat  as  he  stepped  aboard. 
His  near-sighted  squint  in  peering  through  a  pair 
of  ill-fitting  glasses  would  alone  have  allayed  sus 
picion,  for  it  was  chiefly  by  Mr.  Folsom's  eyes  that 
she  was  sure  of  knowing  him. 

But  if  Madame  Zabarelli  could  have  opened  the 
little  satchel  this  gentleman  carried,  her  interest 
would  have  been  considerably  quickened  by  the  dis 
covery  of  a  loaded  revolver,  a  linen  duster,  and  a 
gray  wig. 


II 

WHEN  this  much  desired  traveller 
reached  the  city,  he  climbed  the 
stairs  of  the  Elevated  road  and  en 
tered  a  Third  Avenue  train.  Had  one  been  asked 
to  indicate,  among  the  passengers  in  this  car,  those 
who  from  physiognomy,  manners,  or  apparel  aroused 
a  suspicion  of  dishonesty,  Mr.  James  Wadsworth, 
alias  Folsom,  would  not  have  figured  in  the  list. 
His  eyes  alone  would  have  debarred  him  from  the 
competition.  In  manner  he  was  dignified,  reserved,, 
and  considerate  of  others.  His  garments  were 
fashionable,  but  not  showy;  and  although  his  head 
and  neck  were  more  suggestive  of  the  "  sport  "  than 
the  student,  there  was  something  about  the  thin  lips 
and  clean-cut  chin  that  recalled  familiar  portraits 
of  eminent  divines.  In  voice  and  language  he 
appeared  a  cultivated  man,  which  was  natural 
enough,  as  he  had  received  a  liberal  education  and, 
for  a  brief  period,  had  studied  for  the  ministry. 
This  was  done  under  severe  parental  pressure,  with 
intent  to  counteract,  if  possible,  certain  unspiritual 

28 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

tendencies  which  had  begun  to  alarm  his  family. 
But  while  possessing  in  rare  perfection  the  voice  and 
facial  qualifications  for  a  holy  calling,  his  moral 
machinery  was  an  amusing  burlesque  upon  any  such 
design;  so  much  so  that  he  was  thoroughly  aware  of 
it  himself.  In  fact,  he  wasted  little  time  in  rectifying 
the  paternal  error.  This  he  accomplished  by  remov 
ing  to  the  city  and  applying  his  unusual  gifts  to  the 
discomfiture  of  his  fellow-men.  His  successes  in 
these  more  congenial  pastures  were  numerous,  and, 
whenever  possible,  were  obtained  by  gentlemanly 
methods.  Of  course,  in  a  career  where  the  law 
persists  in  opposing  the  will  of  a  resolute  citizen, 
cases  occur  in  which  benevolence  is  inexpedient; 
but  for  these  Mr.  Wadsworth  was  always  sorry. 
His  sorrow,  however,  never  retarded  his  digestion 
or  disturbed  his  sleep. 

On  this  occasion,  as  he  sat  by  the  open  window 
of  the  car,  he  felt  a  sorrow  that  Madame  Zabarelli's 
inconsiderate  perception  had  prevented  his  securing 
her  money  in  a  peaceful  manner,  as  a  director  of 
the  bank.  It  meant  that  one  more  victim  familiar 
with  his  useful  but  compromising  eyes  was  at  large 
in  the  world,  and  that  one  more  danger  was  forever 
before  him. 

At  Fourteenth  Street  he  left  the  train.  After 
an  errand  on  Broadway  he  returned  toward  the 

29 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

East  side,  along  Twentieth  Street.  When  at 
Gramercy  Park,  he  saw  coming  in  his  direction, 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  by  the  iron 
fence,  a  pedestrian  who  seemed  deep  in  thought. 
Mr.  Wadsworth  crossed  over  and  stood  before 
him. 

"  How  are  you,  Foss  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Hullo,  Jim !  I've  just  come  from  your 
house." 

"  Well,  come  back." 

"  No,  I  can  tell  you  here;  "  and  he  stepped  closer 
to  the  iron  fence  to  make  way  for  a  pair  of  baby 
carriages  with  their  attendant  nurses. 

Mr.  Foster  Graham  was  about  fifty  years  of  age, 
short,  slight,  and  somewhat  sporty  in  apparel.  His 
dark  skin  appeared  a  little  too  loose  for  the  bones  of 
his  face,  particularly  about  the  long,  hard  mouth, 
where  it  formed  deep  creases  from  the  nose  to  the 
chin.  There  was  something  in  the  geography  of 
these  lines  that  suggested  a  sense  of  humor,  al 
though  the  habitual  presence  of  a  cigar,  for  whose 
security  the  mouth  was  perpetually  elongated,  may 
have  increased  this  effect.  Mr.  Graham's  eyes 
were  a  light  gray,  and  they  moved  very  slowly.  Re 
moving  a  freshly  lighted  and  exceedingly  strong 
cigar  from  his  lips,  he  snapped  away  the  ash  and 
remarked : 

3° 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

"  They  are  onto  us." 

Then  he  replaced  the  cigar  and  wriggled  it  back 
into  its  corner,  where  it  remained  during  the  rest 
of  the  interview. 

Over  Mr.  Wadsworth's  face  came  the  faintest  in 
dication  of  uneasiness,  as  he  inquired: 

"The   watchman?" 

His  companion  answered  by  an  affirmative  nod, 
and,  turning  about,  faced  the  iron  fence.  As  the 
two  men  stood  looking  through  the  railing  upon  the 
children  who  played  upon  the  grass  within,  Mr. 
Wadsworth  tightened  his  lips  and  drew  a  hand 
across  his  chin,  as  Filippa  had  observed  a  few  hours 
before.  But  this  time  he  was  facing  a  far  more 
disquieting  possibility  than  his  errand  with  Madame 
Zabarelli  was  likely  to  create.  Two  months  before 
this  interview,  about  three  in  the  morning,  as  these 
two  friends  were  endeavoring  to  open  the  safe  of 
a  prominent  financial  institution  in  a  certain  New 
Jersey  town,  they  were  surprised  by  the  watchman 
of  the  building.  All  details  of  the  interview  were 
still  a  mystery;  but  the  discovery  a  few  hours  later 
of  the  dying  watchman  with  a  broken  skull  con 
vinced  his  employers  that  he  had  died  in  defense 
of  their  property.  As  he  left  a  wife  and  four 
children  and  was  a  general  favorite  with  all  who 
knew  him,  his  sudden  decease  had  aroused  con- 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

siderable  feeling.  While  the  would-be  robbers 
failed  in  the  real  object  of  their  visit,  no  public 
sympathy  had  thus  far  been  expressed  for  them. 
Although  an  exceptionally  large  reward  was  offered 
for  their  persons,  up  to  the  present  moment  Mr. 
Wadsworth  had  not  worried  over  the  business,  as 
he  and  his  partner  could  think  of  no  evidence  likely 
to  be  brought  against  them.  He  always  regretted 
violence;  but  in  this  case  the  responsibility  rested, 
of  course,  with  the  intruder. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  he  inquired.  "  What  have  they 
got?" 

"  You  remember  the  milkman  we  had  to  ask 
about  the  trains  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  he's  a  fly  mug.  He  turns  out  to  be  one 
of  them  smart  people  that  see  and  remember  every 
damned  thing  that  comes  within  a  mile  of  'em." 

"Could  he  describe  us?" 

"  Describe  us !  There  ain't  a  tooth  in  yer  mouth 
nor  a  button  on  yer  clothes — under-clothes,  too — 
that  he  didn't  make  a  note  of.  God!  if  I  had 
known  what  a  million-eyed  rooster  he  was,  I'd 
'a'  given  him  the  whole  State  for  leeway ! " 

There  was  a  silence,  during  which  the  two  men 
stood  looking  through  the  bars.  Mr.  Wadsworth 
took  off  his  hat  and  fanned  himself. 

32 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"What  did  he  say  of  us?" 

"  He  said  a  lot.  He  sized  me  up  from  head  to 
heel.  Hair,  eyes,  nose,  wrinkles,  clothes,  voice, 
teeth,  finger-joints,  cravat,  warts,  buttons,  chain, 
every  damned  thing  that  a  man  can  carry,  he  got; 
and  he  got  it  straight." 

Here  the  creases  at  the  unoccupied  end  of  Mr. 
Graham's  mouth  formed  themselves  into  a  smile, 
and  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes  he  moved  them  slowly 
toward  his  companion. 

"  And  his  catchin'  on  to  you  would  make  a  hen 
laugh.  He  said  the  tallest  man  of  the  two  didn't 
look  like  a  thief;  he  looked  like  a  lawyer,  except 
his  eyes  were  too  honest." 

Mr.  Wadsworth  smiled,  but  the  smile  was  not 
gleeful.  He  remembered  that  yet  another  de 
scription  of  his  eyes  was  probably  on  its  way  from 
Staten  Island.  His  companion  added, — 

"  Them  optics  '11  be  the  hangin'  of  you  yet,  Jim. 
Better  leave  'em  home  next  time  you  travel  for 
yer  health." 

"I  will.     Where  did  you  get  all  this?" 

"  From  Fatty  Barr,  straight.  You  know  he's 
at  headquarters,  sort  of  a  clerk,  and  he  copied  off 
the  testimony.  But  what  puts  a  move  on  me 
more'n  anything  is  that  two  fellers  came  into  Bren- 
nan's  the  other  day,  and  asked  when  I  was  most 

33 


Dr  Thome's    Idea 

likely  to  be  there;  and  as  Brennan  recognized  one 
of  'em  for  the  man  who  spotted  Ikey  Turnbull  last 
year,  I  ain't  likely  to  be  there  very  regular  just 


now." 


"What's  your  scheme,  Foss?" 

!<  To  git.  To-morrow  morning  I'm  on  the  briny. 
I  advise  you  to  get  a  move  on  you,  too,  and  damn 
sudden.'* 

Mr.  Wadworth  appeared  to  be  thinking,  and 
again  drew  in  his  lips  and  slowly  rubbed  his  chin. 
Turning  his  back  to  the  fence,  he  said, — 

"  I  am  hoping  the  next  time  we  meet  there 
won't  be  so  many  iron  bars  just  in  front  of  us. 
They  hurt  the  view." 

"Every   time." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  To  South  America  and  you'd  better  join  the 
procession." 

"  Can't.  I've  got  a  wife  and  boy  on  my 
hands." 

Mr.  Graham  laid  a  ringer  on  his  partner's  chest 
and  said  seriously,  with  a  grave  face: 

"  Now  don't  you  linger,  Jim.  It's  gitt'n'  hotter 
every  twenty  minutes,  and  they're  likely  to  close 
in  on  you.  Take  my  advice.  Better  be  a  live  man 
in  Brazil  than  a  dead  one  in  the  bosom  of  yer 
family." 

34 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"  Right  you  are !  I'll  settle  up  things  and  light 
out.  What's  your  address  down  there?" 

Mr.  Graham  wrote  three  lines  upon  a  piece  of 
paper  and  handed  it  to  his  friend.  "  Be  sure  and 
don't  put  my  name  on  that;  they  might  find  it  on 
you." 

"  You  needn't  worry.  By  the  way,  Foss,  it's 
four  hundred  I  owe  you,  isn't  it  ?  "  and  from  an 
inner  pocket  he  took  out  a  roll  of  crisp,  new 
bills. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right.  'Tain't  what  I  went  to 
your  house  for." 

"  I  know  it,  but  there's  a  chance  of  our  not 
meeting  again  where  money's  any  good;  and  you 
might  as  well  take  it  now." 

"  Thank  you." 

Then,  as  he  noticed  the  roll  was  composed  of 
one-hundred-dollar  notes,  he  added, — 

"  Had  a  graft,  I  guess." 

"  Yes,  but  don't  let  on,  as  I  had  trouble  in 
fetching  it  and  may  hear  from  the  job.  It  comes 
in  mighty  well,  though,  for  things  look  as  if  I  might 
need  it.  These  sudden  changes  are  expensive." 

With  the  side  of  his  mouth  that  was  away  from 
the  cigar  Mr.  Graham  smiled. 

"  It  only  proves  there's  a  Providence.  God  looks 
out  for  his  pet  lambs." 

35 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

Mr.  Wadsworth  also  smiled,  this  time  with  more 
enjoyment. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  the  Lord  is  generous  if  you 
work  him  right,  and  when  we  get  to  Brazil  we'll 
continue  our  labors  in  the  vineyard." 

Here  Mr.  Graham,  without  removing  his  cigar, 
brought  the  tips  of  his  ten  fingers  together  with  a 
clerical  gesture,  and  remarked  with  pompous  dig 
nity, — 

"  And  I  have  long  felt,  Brother  Wadsworth, 
that  the  holy  gospel  should  not  be  withheld  from  the 
wealthy  heathen." 

Then  with  smiling  faces  they  shook  hands  and 
parted,  not  to  meet  again  this  side  the  Styx. 

As  Mr.  Wadsworth  continued  his  homeward 
journey,  still  to  the  eastward,  his  thoughts  were 
disquieting.  He  knew  Foss  Graham  too  well  to 
doubt  the  truth  of  the  information  just  received, 
and  were  it  not  for  his  family,  he  would  be  on  the 
open  sea  to-night.  But  so  sudden  a  departure 
needed  skilful  explanations. 

Passing  through  Stuyvesant  Square,  he  seated 
himself  upon  an  empty  bench  to  decide  on  the 
style  of  fiction  Mrs.  Wadsworth  would  be  most 
likely  to  accept.  His  hat  he  laid  upon  the  seat  be 
side  him;  and  soon  the  cool  shade,  the  rustling  of 
the  leaves  above  his  head,  together  with  the  voices 

36 


Dr   Thome's  Idea 

of  children  at  their  play,  produced  a  soothing  effect 
upon  nerves  still  calm  and  firm,  but  which  had  al 
ready  that  day  twice  experienced  a  fatiguing  tension. 
He  might  have  floated  off  into  a  gentle  slumber 
were  it  not  for  the  somewhat  stirring  news  he  had 
just  received.  Even  a  man  of  Mr.  Wadsworth's 
temperament  finds  it  difficult  to  attain  a  perfect 
peace  of  mind  with  the  shadow  of  the  gallows  too 
distinctly  outlined  across  his  path.  His  eyes  closed, 
however,  and,  as  thus  he  reclined,  the  outward  effigy 
of  a  tranquil  soul,  his  brain,  of  a  sudden,  awoke 
in  swift  alarm,  and  all  his  senses  became  painfully 
acute.  Behind  him  he  heard  stealthy  footsteps 
upon  the  gravel  walk,  of  some  one  cautiously  ap 
proaching.  Mr.  Wadsworth  was  a  man  of  swift 
resolves  and  decisive  action,  but  this  time  he  felt 
the  game  was  up.  He  made  no  motion;  even  his 
eyes  remained  closed.  The  man  behind  him,  if 
the  one  he  feared,  was  sure  to  be  armed,  and  sure 
to  be  accompanied  by  a  mate.  They  always  came 
in  pairs.  And  when  a  hand  fell  heavily  upon  his 
shoulder,  an  involuntary  tremor  shot  up  his  spine 
and  died  frigidly  away  among  the  nerves  of  his 
scalp.  If  a  passer-by  had  bent  down  and  peered 
close  into  his  face,  he  might  have  seen  less  color 
than  usual  about  his  lips;  but  no  muscles  moved. 
Judging  from  appearances,  his  cherubic  slumbers 

37 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

were  undisturbed.  Inwardly  there  was  sudden  de 
spair.  Before  him  he  saw  a  long  trial  with  damning 
evidence  and  certain  death, — the  death  of  a  com 
mon  criminal, — and  he  thought  of  his  wife  and  his 
boy;  but  all  was  instantaneous, — a  swift  prophetic 
flash,  like  a  knife  through  a  desperate  heart. 

But  from  this  despair  he  was  swiftly  elevated  to 
an  ecstatic  relief,  and  all  by  another  movement  of 
the  hand  upon  his  shoulder.  It  crept  slowly  to 
ward  his  neck,  and  fingers  that  he  now  recognized 
as  those  of  a  child  travelled  playfully  about  his 
ears.  He  yielded,  however,  to  no  nervous  im 
pulses,  for  Mr.  Wadsworth  was  a  "  dead  game 
sport."  He  was  the  last  man  to  display  outward 
symptoms  of  his  inward  joys — or  of  his  tribu 
lations. 

"  Steve,"  he  said  quietly. 

"  Did  I  scare  you,  pop?  "  came  in  a  child's  voice; 
and  a  boy  of  ten  stepped  out  from  behind  the  seat 
and  stood  before  him. 

Mr.  Wadsworth  smiled  an  affectionate  welcome 
into  a  pair  of  eyes  exactly  like  his  own.  They  were 
fully  as  honest,  even  more  so  if  possible,  bearing 
the  same  glad  tidings  of  a  soul  overladen  with  truth, 
from  which  the  Heaven-born  light,  pure  and  in 
vigorating,  shed  forth  support  and  guidance  for  less 
immaculate  mortals.  Like  his  father,  these  eyes 

38 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

were  his  striking  feature;  otherwise  his  face  bore 
nothing  unusual  to  impress  a  stranger.  He  had 
the  fresh,  wholesome  complexion  of  those  who 
are  fond  of  exercise  and  whose  digestions  are 
friendly. 

When  he  smiled,  and  his  smile  came  easily  as 
from  an  open  nature,  the  honest  eyes  joined  in  and 
formed  an  irresistible  harmony.  In  the  presence  of 
such  a  combination  prolonged  hostility,  or  even  sus 
picion,  was  impossible.  The  smile  possessed  an 
inviting  quality,  creating  in  the  beholder  a  strong 
desire  for  further  and  more  intimate  relations  with 
its  owner.  This  inheritance,  so  successfully  trans 
mitted  from  the  father  to  the  son,  was  of  priceless 
value  to  one  ordained,  by  instinct  and  by  educa 
tion,  for  the  beguilement  and  circumvention  of  his 
fellow  creatures.  It  might  appear  that  a  compen 
sating  Providence  had  bestowed  these  efficient 
weapons  in  atonement  for  certain  moral  de 
ficiencies. 

This  boy  had  also  inherited  a  splendid  physique. 
Erect,  deep-chested,  and  broad-shouldered,  he  stood 
firmly  on  his  feet,  and  had  already  begun  to  have 
that  solid  look  about  the  legs  and  shoulders  that  we 
associate  with  the  professional  gymnast.  His 
straightness  was  not  from  any  effort  of  his  own, 
but  because  the  compensating  Providence  had  so 

39 


Dr  Thome's    Idea 

constructed.  The  expression  of  his  face  was  cheer 
ful  and  alert,  more  responsive  and  sympathetic  than 
his  father's;  less  hard  about  the  mouth,  and  the 
lips  were  fuller  and  with  gentler  curves. 

Mr.  Wadsworth  regarded  the  figure  before  him 
with  grateful  relief.  And  besides,  he  was  proud 
of  his  son.  He  was  proud  of  his  strength,  of  his 
self-reliance  and  his  pluck.  He  knew  him  to 
possess  qualities  in  which  he  himself  was  deficient, 
some  of  which  he  admired;  others  he  did  not  fully 
understand,  and  of  these  he  was  a  little  afraid. 

"  Did  I  scare  you,  pop  ?  " 

"I  nearly  fainted." 

The  boy  laughed  and  laid  a  hand  on  his  father's 
knee. 

"  Well,  you  didn't  know  at  first  who  it  was,  any 
way!" 

"  No ;  I  thought  it  might  be — King  George. 
But  his  fingers  are  cleaner  than  yours,  I'm  think 
ing.  How  did  you  bark  your  knuckle?'' 

The  boy  looked  at  his  fist,  then  drew  a  handker 
chief  from  his  pocket  and  endeavored  to  remove 
the  stains. 

"  That's  a  nice,  fresh-looking  handkerchief,"  his 
father  remarked.  "  Been  wiping  up  the  street  with 
it?" 

As  the  grime  and  gore  were  transferred  from 
40 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

the  hand  to  the  many-tinted  cloth  one  or  two 
small  cuts  were  disclosed,  which  were  still  bleed 
ing. 

"How  did  you  do  it?" 

As  no  answer  came,  it  was  evident  to  the  father, 
who  knew  his  son,  that  the  issue  was  being  dodged. 
With  a  frown  he  asked, — 

"  Been  fighting  again  ?  " 

"No;  not  a  real  fight." 

"How  was  it?" 

"  Over  in  the  other  square,  a  little  while  ago.  I 
was  coming  through,  and  saw  a  quarter  rolling 
along,  right  in  the  walk.  When  I  picked  it  up  and 
shoved  it  in  my  pocket,  the  little  chap  what  was 
chasing  it — " 

"  Who  was  chasing  it?" 

"  — who  was  chasing  it,  began  to  kick  up  a  row 
to  have  it  back.  He  was  a  little  dude,  dressed 
like  a  sailor,  with  long  yellow  hair;"  and  on  the 
narrator's  face  there  came  a  smile  of  con 
temptuous  pity.  "  Just  as  I  lit  out  to  get  away 
from  his  yellin'  a  feller  caught  me  by  the  collar, 
behind.  I  twisted  round,  and  there  was  a  sucker, 
that  high,  a  grocer's  boy,  with  a  basket;"  and  he 
held  a  hand  about  a  foot  above  his  own  head. 

His  father  smiled.  "  Luck  was  against  you  that 
time,  old  man." 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"  No,  it  wasn't !  "  said  the  boy,  with  a  slow  twist 
of  the  head.  "  He  told  me  to  hand  back  the  quar 
ter,  and  I  said  I  wouldn't.  Then  there  was  chin- 
nin',  but  I  didn't  bull-doze  for  a  cent,  and  he  just 
hauled  off  and  let  me  have  one  between  the  eyes. 
But  it  didn't  hurt  anybody.  Then  I  plunked  him 
three  or  four  peaches,  one  of  'em  on  the  mouth,  and 
his  teeth  cut  me.  I  left  him  sitting  on  a  seat  try 
ing  to  keep  his  face  clean." 

Mr.  Wadsworth's  impassive  face  gave  no  out 
ward  sign  of  his  pride  in  this  achievement,  as 
he  did  not  believe  in  too  much  fighting  either 
among  boys  or  men.  There  was  nothing  to  gain 
by  it. 

"  And  you  have  spent  the  quarter  already,  I  sup 
pose." 

"No,  sir;  not  yet." 

There  was  something  in  the  manner  of  the  reply 
that  suggested  prevarication. 

"  Let's  see  it." 

"What?" 

"  The  quarter." 

The  young  athlete  searched  through  every  pocket, 
then  fixed  the  superlatively  honest  eyes  upon  those 
of  his  parent,  and  exclaimed, — 

"Jiminy!     I've  lost  it!" 

But  the  senior  Wadsworth  had  known  these  eyes 
42 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

from  infancy.  Besides,  he  had  a  similar  pair  him 
self,  and  he  was  not  deceived. 

"  Steve,  is  that  whole  yarn  a  fake?" 

"  No,  pop !  straight  and  honest,  it  ain't." 

"  It  isn't,  you  mean." 

"  It  isn't." 

"  Then  where's  the  quarter?" 

For  a  moment  the  youth  looked  half  ashamed. 
Then  he  made  a  reluctant  confession. 

"  Well,  as  long  as  I  had  licked  the  big  feller, 
and  the  little  one  felt  so  broke  up  over  it,  I  just  gave 
his  money  back  to  him." 

Mr  Wadsworth  looked  away  and  appeared  in 
terested  in  a  passing  citizen.  This  was  not  the  first 
time  his  son  had  yielded  to  a  foolish  sentiment  and 
lost  his  hard-earned  gains.  He  could  hardly  scold 
him  for  it,  and  yet  such  ideas,  if  they  became  a 
habit,  must  of  necessity  be  an  obstacle  to  success. 
Steve  saw,  as  he  anticipated,  that  he  had  dimmed 
the  glory  of  his  victory. 

Mr.  Wadsworth  rose  to  his  feet  and  took  out 
his  watch. 

"  Nearly  five  o'clock.  We  must  be  getting 
home." 

As  they  walked  away  together,  hand  in  hand, 
out  of  the  park  and  along  an  adjacent  street,  the  boy 
maintained  a  conversation  touching  on  many  sub- 

43 


Dr   Thome's  Idea 

jects,  but  in  which  his  companion  took  but  a  fit 
ful  interest.  For  Mr.  Wadsworth  had  much  to 
think  of.  There  are  many  things  to  be  adjusted 
before  a  father  can  leave  his  home  forever,  espe 
cially  at  sudden  notice;  and  in  this  case  there  were 
outside  complications  not  likely  to  hamper  the 
usual  citizen.  His  wife  caused  him  more  embar 
rassment  at  the  present  crisis  than  any  other  features 
of  the  dilemma.  He  was  a  good  husband,  and 
reasonably  fond  of  her;  and  she  was  the  mother  of 
Steve,  whom  he  loved  even  better  than  himself;  but 
he  anticipated  trouble,  not  so  much  because  of  her 
unvarying  and  unassailable  selfishness,  but  because, 
of  all  women  who  had  thus  far  come  upon  this 
earth,  she  was,  in  all  human  probability,  the  most 
tempestuous  and  unreasonable. 

The  Wadsworth  home,  on  the  ninth  floor  of 
a  pretentious  but  cheaply-constructed  apartment 
house  a  short  distance  from  Stuyvesant  Square, 
consisted  of  a  sitting-room,  two  chambers,  and  a 
bath-room.  The  small  chamber  was  occupied  by 
Steve,  the  larger  one  by  his  parents.  All  were  on 
the  rear  of  the  building,  looking  south;  and  the 
view  from  the  windows  included  the  entire  city  to 
the  south,  the  rivers  on  the  east  and  west,  a  portion 
of  the  harbor,  all  of  Brooklyn,  and  the  distant  hills 
in  New  Jersey.  The  interior  of  the  apartment  was 

44 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

less  inspiring.  In  the  sitting-room,  plush  furniture, 
cheaply  made  and  of  showy  colors,  had  become 
shabby  and  uninviting.  The  carpet  showed  a  lighter 
shade  in  diverging  paths  around  the  centre-table,  and 
in  places  near  the  window  the  boards  beneath  were 
visible.  Along  certain  spaces  of  shelves  and  tables 
the  dust  was  undisturbed.  A  large  gilt  clock  upon 
the  mantel  had  received  a  blow  from  some  flying 
object  that  had  shattered  its  face  and  discouraged 
its  interior.  The  two  chambers  were  furnished  in 
corresponding  taste,  and  were  administered  by  the 
same  housekeeper. 

Upon  entering  the  sitting-room  and  finding  no 
one  there,  Mr.  Wadsworth  asked  Stephen  if  he  hap 
pened  to  know  where  his  mother  had  gone. 

"  No ;  only  that  she  got  on  that  car." 

"What  car?" 

"  Why,  the  Second  Avenue  car." 

"When?" 

"  Why,  pop,  I  told  you  on  the  way  over  that  I 
saw  her  getting  on  to  a  car  about  an  hour  ago." 

"I  didn't  hear  you.     Was  she  alone?" 

Steve  turned  his  eyes  away;  then,  with  a  side 
glance  toward  his  father,  shook  his  head  in  the 
negative. 

"Wallace?" 

Steve  bobbed  his  head. 
45 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

Mr.  Wadsworth  muttered  something,  and  his 
face  took  an  unpleasant  expression.  He  was  a  man 
who  controlled  his  feelings;  and  as  he  tossed  his  hat 
upon  a  sofa  and  strode  into  the  adjoining  chamber, 
Stephen  knew  that  his  anger  was  deeper  than  it  ap 
peared.  Mr.  Wallace,  the  leading  tenor  in  a  second- 
rate  theatre,  was  a  person  of  neither  beauty,  intel 
ligence,  nor  physique;  but  with  hair  and  voice  he 
was  lavishly  endowed.  His  raven  locks,  curly  and 
somewhat  longer  than  fashion  required,  excited  no 
envy  in  other  men,  but  upon  the  female  heart  they 
took  a  powerful  hold.  So  also  with  his  voice. 
Male  members  of  the  audience  waited  in  patient 
silence  until  his  song  was  finished,  and  were  hap 
pier  when  the  end  arrived;  but  the  average  woman 
hung  with  passionate  thirst  upon  his  blatant,  reedy 
notes,  and  yearned  to  possess  him.  He  appeared 
seriously  in  love  with  Mrs.  Wadsworth ;  and  as  Mrs. 
Wadsworth  was  certainly  no  stronger  or  more  dis 
criminating  than  the  average  woman,  her  husband 
had  excellent  reasons  for  becoming  anxious.  In 
vain  he  pointed  out  the  dangers  of  the  situation. 
More  than  once  he  had  argued  with  her  kindly  and 
not  in  anger,  and  she  had  promised  to  forego  the 
tenor;  but  the  promise  was  hard  to  keep,  and  Mr. 
Wadsworth  became  the  victim  of  some  discouraging 
suspicions. 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

When  he  reappeared,  some  moments  later,  in  his 
shirt-sleeves,  he  returned  the  smile  with  which 
Stephen  greeted  him.  Seating  himself  by  the  open 
window,  he  took  a  little  gold  ring  from  his  pocket. 

"  Here's  a  present  for  you,  Steve." 

His  son  approached  and  leaned  against  the 
paternal  knees. 

"A  gold  ring?" 

"  Yes,  and  one  that  will  bring  luck  to  whoever 
wears  it." 

As  he  spoke,  he  was  cutting  with  his  penknife 
the  silken  thread  that  had  been  laboriously  wound 
about  it. 

"What's  all  that  thread  for?" 

"  To  make  it  fit  the  one  who  owned  it  before." 

"  He  must  have  been  a  mighty  small  boy !  " 

"  It  wasn't  a  boy;  it  was  a  girl." 

"  Did  she  give  it  to  you  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

With  the  silk  removed  it  was  found  to  be  a  per 
fect  fit  for  Stephen's  smallest  finger.  He  slipped 
it  on  and  off,  held  it  up  at  various  angles,  and  was 
pleased  with  his  present.  He  discovered  the  in 
scription  along  the  inside  and  read  it  aloud :  "  '  To 
F.  W.  Z.  God  Bless  the  Wearer/  What  does 
F.  W.  Z  stand  for,  pop?" 

"  Perhaps  the  initials  of  some  other  owner ;  but 
47 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

you  wear  it,  and  always  keep  it  on  your  finger.  As 
you  get  bigger  a  jeweller  can  let  it  out  a  little. 
Don't  take  it  off  any  more  than  you  have  to." 

"All  right;  I'll  never  take  it  off." 

"  And  if  your  mother  should  notice  and  ask 
about  it,  or  want  to  take  it  in  her  hand,  why,  tell 
her  you  can't  get  it  off.  Tell  her  you  found  it  in  the 
street." 

Before  placing  it  finally  on  his  finger,  Steve  read 
again  the  loving  legend. 

"  God'll  bless  me  right  along,  won't  he  ?  all  the 
time  I  wear  it?  " 

"Very  likely." 

"That'll  be  a  good  thing.     Won't  it?" 

"  I  should  think  so." 

"  How  does  it  work  ?    How'll  I  be  different  ?  " 

"  It  will  bring  you  luck,  and — and  make  you 
good." 

The  boy  reflected. 

"  There's  no  use  in  being  too  good." 

"  No,  not  in  this  world." 


Ill 

AN  hour  later  they  still  awaited  Mrs.  Wads- 
worth's  return.  It  was  half-past  six,  and 
both  were  hungry.  The  father,  sitting 
near  the  door,  was  looking  over  papers,  destroying 
those  whose  testimony  he  considered  dangerous. 
Upon  the  table  before  him  stood  a  bust,  the  size 
of  life,  of  a  famous  pugilist.  This  was  done  in 
plaster,  but  smeared  with  an  unpleasant  tint  sug 
gesting  bronze;  merely  a  suggestion,  however,  as 
no  one  could  be  misled.  Steve,  the  owner  now 
lounging  near  the  window  absorbed  in  the  biog 
raphy  of  a  distinguished  train-robber,  had  won  it 
in  a  raffle,  and  valued  it  far  above  dollars. 

At  last  a  key  was  inserted  in  the  outer  door; 
then  a  showy  presence  filled  the  room. 

One  glance  at  Stephen's  mother  would  explain 
the  infatuation  of  many  Wallaces.  A  magnificent 
physical  triumph,  Mrs.  Wadsworth  seemed  more 
than  enough  to  turn  the  head  of  the  diminutive 
tenor,  a  man  with  neither  length,  breadth,  nor  diges 
tion;  nor  even  passable  legs.  Tall,  and  beautifully 

49 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

proportioned,  she  was  also  perfectly  erect,  with  a 
splendid  carriage.  This  she  had  bequeathed  to 
Stephen,  his  best  inheritance  from  his  mother.  Her 
features  were  those  of  an  Olympian  goddess;  her 
eyes  were  handsome.  In  fact,  nothing  seemed  for 
gotten  in  her  physical  outfit.  But  she  herself  had 
lived  exclusively  upon  these  gifts.  Her  expression 
was  neither  amiable  nor  contented;  the  roses  in 
her  cheeks  were  painted  by  a  heavier  hand  than 
that  of  her  Creator,  and  her  hair  was  that 
golden  yellow  which  deceives  no  one  but  the 
wearer. 

As  she  stepped  to  the  centre-table  and  removed  an 
elaborate  hat  with  crimson  plumes,  her  husband  was 
reminded  of  Filippa's  doll.  To  a  doubting  spouse 
it  was  not  a  soothing  resemblance,  and  his  face  ex 
pressed  his  thought.  She  caught  the  look,  and  re 
marked,  in  the  manner  of  one  who  has  a  chip  upon 
the  shoulder, — 

"  Well,  what  are  you  ugly  about  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  ugly,  but  it  is  pretty  tough  on  any 
man  to  have  his  wife  stumping  around  the  town 
with  a  thing  like  Wallace." 

She  looked  across  the  table  into  the  mirror,  and, 
adjusting  the  yellow  locks  with  hands  that  glistened 
with  enormous  jewels,  replied,  with  assumed  indif 
ference, — 

So 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean.  I  ain't  seen  him 
for  a  week." 

"  You  went  off  with  him  about  three  hours  ago 
in  a  Second  Avenue  car." 

She  appeared  surprised,  and  her  expression  be 
came  less  indifferent. 

"Did  I,  really?" 

"  You  did." 

"  I  thought  you  were  the  man  who  went  out  of 
town  to-day." 

"  I  did." 

"  Then  who  told  you  that  lie  ?  "  and  the  hand 
some  eyes  became  hard  as  they  turned  with  an 
ominous  glitter  toward  the  boy  at  the  window. 

"  I  saw  you  myself." 

"  Then  you  got  back  in  season  to  sneak  around 
after  your  wife  for  a  while." 

Mr.  Wadsworth  made  a  strong  effort  to  control 
himself. 

"JLook  here,  Fanny,"  he  said  in  a  calm  tone,  as 
he  arose  and  stood  facing  her,  "  that's  a  poor  bluff. 
You  are  bringing  trouble  on  yourself  and  shame  to 
the  rest  of  us.  That  sort  of  thing  doesn't  go  down. 
You've  got  to  stop  it  right  here." 

She  raised  her  chin  and  looked  him  coldly  in  the 
face. 

"  You  don't  say  so." 

51 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

Mr.  Wadsworth  made  another  effort  to  keep  his 
temper;  slowly,  and  in  a  harder  voice  he  an 
swered, — 

"  I  do  say  so ;  and  this  time  I  mean  it.  I  don't 
share  my  wife  with  any  half-grown,  bleating,  hairy 
freak." 

At  this  epithet  a  change  came  over  Mrs.  Wads- 
worth's  face  that  caused  her  husband's  expression 
to  turn  swiftly  from  anger  to  apprehension.  It  also 
brought  Stephen  to  his  feet.  This  lady's  tempers 
were  more  than  disastrous,  they  were  destructive; 
and  when  they  occurred  all  other  business  in  her 
vicinity  was  hastily  abandoned.  But  their  violence 
and  their  frequency  had  developed  a  systematic 
treatment  on  the  part  of  her  present  companions 
which  was  applied  not  only  for  their  own  preserva 
tion  but  for  that  of  the  furniture.  So,  when  her 
face  became  suddenly  a  ghastly  white,  with  no  trace 
of  color  save  the  two  painted  spots  upon  her 
cheeks,  and  this  pallor  as  swiftly  drowned  in  a  crim 
son  flush  as  though  her  blood  were  bursting  through 
the  skin,  then  the  father  exchanged  a  hasty  glance 
with  his  son,  and  both  moved  cautiously  toward 
her,  each  from  his  own  end  of  the  table.  The 
woman  before  them,  insane  for  the  time  being  from 
the  intensity  of  a  resistless,  unreasoning  fury,  still 
retained  the  instincts  of  a  beast  at  bay.  Seizing  a 

52 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

roller  skate  that  lay  upon  the  table,  she  hurled  it 
with  accurate  aim  and  with  murderous  force  at  the 
head  of  her  approaching  husband.  He  dodged  it, 
and  it  struck  the  noted  pugilist  full  across  the 
mouth,  smashing  him  into  hopeless  chaos.  Quickly 
she  reached  for  the  companion  missile  and  raised  it 
aloft;  but  before  it  could  depart,  Mr.  Wadsworth 
had  sprung  to  her  side  and  seized  both  her  wrists. 
Steve  in  the  meantime,  and  with  equal  promptness, 
dropped  to  his  knees  at  her  feet,  threw  his  arms 
about  the  maternal  legs,  his  face  deep  buried  in  her 
skirt,  and  held  her  with  an  iron  grip.  Then  the 
husband  and  the  son,  with  the  ease  and  precision 
that  come  from  practice,  brought  her  gently  to  the 
floor. 

She  also  had  learned  from  experience :  she  had 
learned,  among  other  things,  that  against  these  two 
athletes  resistance  was  of  no  avail.  But  her  tongue 
was  free.  Mr.  Wadsworth,  while  holding  her  as 
gently  as  possible,  became  the  recipient  of  curses  so 
emphatic,  so  varied,  and  so  ingeniously  insulting  as 
to  have  been  insupportable  had  they  come  from 
other  lips.  But  he  was  well  aware  that  the  woman 
who  uttered  them  had  become  an  irresponsible 
being;  a  fact  also  recognized  with  filial  sympathy 
by  the  son,  although  he  clutched  her  knees  with  an 
unyielding  grip. 

53 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

In  two  or  three  minutes,  when  safety  permitted, 
Mr.  Wadsworth  loosened  his  hold,  Steve  followed 
his  example,  the  lady  climbed  slowly  to  her  feet,  and 
the  family  relations,  to  all  appearance,  continued  as 
before. 

It  was  a  hard  thing  to  live  with,  this  temper,  and 
the  day  was  one  of  sorrow  for  Mr.  Wadsworth 
when  he  first  discovered  what  a  cruel  heritage  had 
fallen  to  his  son.  With  all  a  father's  affection  for 
an  only  child — and  for  this  boy  his  love  was  greater 
than  for  himself — he  endeavored  by  every  means 
within  his  knowledge  at  first  to  suppress,  and  finally 
to  reason  with  and  to  control  these  outbursts.  But 
the  reward  was  meagre ;  for  the  boy,  although  him 
self  ashamed  of  and  ever  doing  his  best  to  avert 
them,  was  powerless  to  conquer.  They  overtook 
him,  these  spasms  of  fury,  not  often,  but  with  suffi 
cient  frequency  to  reclaim  their  victim,  and  to  show 
him  that  human  viligance  was  of  no  avail.  Be 
tween  himself  and  Mrs.  Wadsworth,  however,  ex 
isted  an  important  distinction :  the  mother  after  these 
attacks  remained  sullen  and  vindictive.  With  the 
son  there  was  an  eagerness  to  make  the  fullest  atone 
ment. 

Half  an  hour  later,  when  they  quitted  the  apart 
ment  and  walked  to  a  neighboring  restaurant  for 
dinner,  no  observer  would  have  presumed  to  sus- 

54 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

pect  this  stately  and  pretentious  female  of  her  re 
cent  behavior.  During  the  meal  she  showed  no 
signs  of  resentment,  and  her  amiability  caused  her 
two  companions  not  only  an  unwonted  pleasure  but 
a  mild  surprise.  This  amiability  was  the  result  of  a 
swift  decision.  Behind  loving  smiles  and  cheerful 
conversation  she  was  perfecting  a  plan  by  which  to 
paralyze  the  wicked  and  reward  the  virtuous,  all 
by  a  single,  sudden  action,  splendidly  dramatic  in 
its  irreparable  results.  Her  external  sweetness  was 
ably  maintained  until  the  hour  for  action;  and  the 
hour  for  action  was  close  at  hand. 

At  the  door  of  the  apartment  house  Mr.  Wads- 
worth  left  them,  saying  it  would  be  late  in  the  even 
ing  before  he  returned.  He  noticed  that  his  wife's 
expression  was  one  of  unusual  gentleness;  and  had 
his  knowledge  of  her  character  been  less  complete, 
he  might  have  laid  it  to  affection,  or,  at  least,  to 
self-forgetfulness.  But,  whatever  the  cause,  it  was 
unfamiliar,  and  he  recalled  it  later. 

Upon  entering  the  apartment  Mrs.  Wadsworth, 
without  removing  her  hat,  went  directly  to  a  desk 
and  wrote  a  note.  After  sealing  and  directing  it, 
she  came  toward  Steve,  who  occupied  his  favorite 
perch  at  the  window,  absorbed  in  the  "  Lives  of 
Famous  Robbers." 

"  Steve,  I  want  you  to  take  this — "  Then  she 
55 


Dr   Thome's    Idea 

hesitated,  and,  remembering  his  fidelity  to  his 
father,  decided  that  in  this  emergency  he  was  not 
to  be  trusted. 

"  Ring  for  the  elevator,"  she  said  in  a  harder 
voice;  and  she  passed  into  the  adjoining  chamber. 

When  the  elevator  arrived  she  herself  took  out  the 
note,  and  Steve  heard  her  say  to  the  boy, — 

"  Give  this  to  a  messenger  at  once,  and  tell  him 
he  will  get  an  extra  quarter  for  a  quick  answer." 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  the  answer  came.  After 
reading  it  she  turned  to  Stephen  with  her  sweetest 
smile,  and  inquired  if  he  would  like  to  go  to  the 
theatre  this  evening.  The  reply,  as  anticipated,  was 
an  emphatic  affirmative.  She  placed  a  fifty-cent 
piece  in  his  hand,  and  told  him  to  select  his  own 
performance.  He  was  surprised,  but  lost  no  time 
in  waiting,  and  at  once  departed,  marvelling  at  this 
uncommon  but  delightful  exhibition  of  a  mother's 
love. 

When  he  returned,  three  hours  later,  the  rooms 
were  dark  and  silent.  He  stepped  to  the  doorway 
of  her  chamber  and  whispered, — 

"  Ma." 

No  answer  came.  Then  he  spoke  again  in  a 
louder  voice,  but  there  was  no  response.  The  voice 
less  gloom  of  the  apartment  seemed  a  living 
thing,  concealing  some  mysterious  calamity.  But 

56 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

Stephen's  nerves  were  not  of  the  kind  that  flutter. 
He  struck  a  match  and  lit  the  gas.  Over  the  floor, 
upon  the  bed  and  chairs,  were  scattered  various 
articles  of  woman's  clothing, — here  a  skirt  and 
there  a  hat,  with  occasional  shoes  and  undergar 
ments;  bedclothes,  pillows,  newspapers,  and  empty 
hat-boxes.  The  bureau  drawers  were  open  and 
empty;  the  closet  doors  were  open,  and  the  closets 
were  empty.  The  contents  of  the  room  had  been 
thoroughly  overhauled. 

He  was  puzzled,  and  for  a  moment  suspected  a 
robbery ;  but  where  was  his  mother  ?  Robbers  could 
never  take  her  away.  Tucked  in  the  mirror  above 
the  bureau  was  a  folded  paper.  Going  nearer,  he 
read  the  address,  MR.  JAMES  WADSWORTH,  in  his 
mother's  writing.  He  pulled  it  out  and  opened  it. 

DEAR  JIM, — You  and  I  don't  hit  it  very  well,  and  I  leave  you  for 
somebody  who  understands  me  better,  and  you  needn't  try  to 
follow  me,  because  I  shall  be  miles  away  from  this  town  when 
you  read  these  lines.  You  can  have  Steve.  I  am  writing  this  in 
great  haste  ;  so  good-by  from 

FANNY  WADSWORTH. 

Steve  read  this  twice,  very  slowly,  for  its  full 
significance  was  difficult  to  grasp.  But  he  finally  un 
derstood.  She  had  left  dad  and 'him  for  Wallace! 
Refolding  the  paper,  he  tucked  it  in  the  frame  of 
the  mirror  where  he  had  found  it,  then  he  walked 
back  to  the  sitting-room  window,  and,  leaning  over 

57 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

the  sill  in  his  favorite  position,  looked  out  over  the 
sleeping  city.  It  seemed  vaster  than  ever,  and 
farther  below  him. 

He  took  no  interest  in  the  rising  moon  or  its 
shimmering  light  upon  the  river  to  the  east.  With 
indifferent  eyes  he  gazed  upon  the  silvery  flood 
that  illumined  the  towering  sentinels  of  the  Brook 
lyn  Bridge,  and  touched  in  the  far  obscurity,  with 
familiar  greeting,  the  watching  goddess  in  the 
harbor.  Beyond  these,  and  beyond  the  limits  of  his 
vision,  he  tried  to  peer  into  the  darkness,  wonder 
ing  in  which  direction  his  tempestuous  parent  had 
flown.  And  he  wondered  if,  in  the  city  below,  there 
were  many  boys  whose  mothers  had  also  run  away. 
Perhaps  it  was  a  common  thing.  He  hoped  so. 
She  was  not  a  perfect  mother,  but  he  recalled  the 
kind  things  she  had  done  for  him,  making  a  gallant 
effort  to  forget  the  unpleasant  ones, — to  forget  that 
she  had  never  given  him  the  care  and  attention  that 
other  boys  seemed  to  get  from  their  mothers ;  that 
his  clothes  were  never  mended  unless  the  janitress 
or  a  tailor  saw  to  them;  and  that  more  than  once 
she  had  punished  him  because  she  was  angry  with 
his  father.  These  things  he  tried  to  forget,  remem 
bering  only  that  she  was  his  mother,  and  that  she 
was  gone. 

But  it  cut  him  to  the  heart  that  she  should  give 

58 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

him  up  so  easily.  "  You  can  have  Steve."  The 
words  were  cruel,  and  he  could  not  help  repeating 
them. 

His  eyes  were  moist  as  he  left  the  window,  and 
they  were  still  moist,  some  minutes  later,  when,  in 
a  buttonless  night-shirt,  he  threw  himself  upon  his 
bed.  The  night  was  warm,  too  warm  for  sleep,  and 
he  felt  like  going  out  into  the  streets  and  hunting  for 
his  father. 

At  one  o'clock  he  was  still  awake,  and  he  heard 
a  key  in  the  door.  Jumping  from  bed,  he  ran  out 
into  the  parlor  to  welcome  his  remaining  parent. 

As  Mr.  Wadsworth  entered  the  unlighted  room, 
he  could  barely  distinguish  the  white  figure  by  the 
center-table.  He  stopped  short  as  Steve,  in  a 
solemn  voice,  announced, — 

"  Ma's  gone !    She's  run  off  with  Wallace." 

It  was  too  dark  to  see  distinctly,  but  Steve  knew 
his  father  was  compressing  his  lips  and  drawing  a 
hand  across  his  mouth. 

"  She  left  a  letter  for  you,  sticking  in  the  mir 
ror  ;  "  and  the  white  sleeve  of  a  night-shirt  pointed 
toward  the  chamber. 

Into  the  next  room  walked  father  and  son,  the 
latter  sitting  upon  the  edge  of  the  bed.,  crossing  and 
uncrossing  his  bare  legs  as  he  watched  his  sire  with 
a  sympathetic  gaze,  and  saw  him  turn  up  the  light, 

59 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

then  take  the  letter  from  its  place  and  read  it.  Al 
though  he  knew  this  parent  well,  he  was  surprised  to 
see  him  receive  such  momentous  tidings  with  no 
change  of  expression.  He  merely  drew  in  his  lips 
and  passed  a  hand  across  his  chin, — as  usual  when 
there  was  food  for  reflection, — and  then  quietly  laid 
aside  his  coat  and  vest  and  loosened  his  collar. 

Seating  himself  in  a  rocking-chair,  he  questioned 
Steve  for  further  information;  but  there  was  little 
to  be  learned.  As  his  glance  encountered  a  jewel- 
box,  overturned  and  empty,  upon  the  bureau,  he 
picked  it  up  and  muttered,  with  a  mirthless  smile 
upon  his  lips: 

"  The  poor  things  won't  realize  heavily  on  their 
jewelry." 

Steve  failed  to  comprehend;  but  as  the  joke  on 
Wallace  was  evidently  too  good  to  be  suppressed, 
the  father  continued, — 

"  When  I  gave  your  mother  her  engagement  ring, 
I  was  flush  and  I  laid  myself  out  on  it.  It  cost  me 
two  hundred  dollars.  I  found  accidentally,  a  year 
or  two  after  we  were  married,  that  she  had  realized 
on  the  two-hundred-dollar  diamond,  and  substituted 
an  imitation.  But  she  has  never  suspected  that  I 
know  it." 

At  this  point  Steve  came  over  and  stood  between 
his  knees. 

60 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  Well,  as  your  mother  showed  such  a  prefer 
ence  for  paste,  I  have  given  her  several  handsome 
specimens  of  it  since.  Every  Christmas,  New 
Year's,  and  on  all  her  birthday's,  she  has  received 
precious  stones  that  must  aggregate,  in  her  opinion, 
about  three  thousand  dollars.  And  I  have  made  a 
point  of  examining  them  carefully,  now  and  then, 
in  her  presence,  all  but  the  engagement  ring,  to  let 
her  see  that  if  any  of  them  were  changed,  I  should 
be  sure  to  discover  it." 

Laying  his  hand  on  the  boy's  shoulder,  he  added, 
with  an  exultant  twinkle  in  the  superlatively  honest 
eyes,— 

"  If  you  ever  run  away  with  another  man's  wife, 
Steve,  and  are  counting  on  a  nice  little  for 
tune,  I  hope  it  won't  pan  out  for  less  than  thirty 
dollars." 

Although  Steve  had  a  poor  opinion  of  Mr.  Wal 
lace,  his  sympathies  were  too  much  with  his  mother 
to  permit  a  thorough  enjoyment  of  her  defeat. 

"  But  it's  hard  on  ma,  ain't  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  mean,  isn't  it." 

"Isn't  it?" 

"  Of  course  it  is ;  but  if  people " 

A  loud  knock  at  the  outer  door  brought  Mr. 
Wadsworth  to  his  feet  with  a  suddeness  that  nearly 
sent  Stephen  to  the  floor.  In  surprise,  the  boy 

61 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

looked  up  at  his  father,  and  saw  that  his  eyes  were 
turned  savagely  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  that  his 
lips  were  tightened  and  his  hands  clenched.  Silently 
and  swiftly  Mr.  Wadsworth  slipped  on  his  vest  and 
coat,  then  tiptoed  through  the  parlor,  and  listened 
near  the  outer  door.  Steve  followed,  and  they  heard 
a  voice,  of  one  man  speaking  to  another,  in  a 
muffled  tone.  As  silently  as  before,  his  father 
stepped  back,  away  from  the  door,  toward  the 
window,  and,  resting  a  hand  on  each  of  Stephen's 
shoulders,  he  bent  down  and  said  in  a  tone  that  no 
one  else  should  hear, — 

"  Steve,  they  have  got  me,  and  you  won't  see 
your  dad  again.  I  must  go  with  them;  there's  no 
help  for  it.  And  all  because  I  am  a  fool, — the 
damnedest  of  all  damned  fools;"  and  he  straight 
ened  up  with  an  angry  gesture. 

"  But,  dad,"  whispered  Steve,  "  ain't  there  some 
thing  I  can  do?  Can  I — "  Here  a  knock  louder 
than  before  was  followed  by  a  heavy,  impatient 
voice. 

"  Open  the  door,  Mr.  Wadsworth.  We  know 
you  are  inside." 

"Can't  I  get  in  the  way,  or  something?"  Steve 
went  on.  "  I  can  do  it,  dad !  I  can  do  whatever 
you  say ! " 

Mr.  Wadsworth  looked  down  at  the  muscular  lit- 
62 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

tie  figure  in  its  airy  garment,  and  it  brought  an  idea. 
His  face  brightened. 

"  Could  you  grab  one  of  those  men  by  the  legs, 
as  you  do  your  mother,  and  hold  him  long  enough 
for  me  to  manage  the  other  chap  ?  " 

"Yes!    Yes!    Easy!" 

"If  you  can  do  that,  Stevey,  you'll  save  your 
father.  Now,  be  sure  and  jump  for  the  one  I  point 
at — in  this  way — and  go  for  him  just  when  I  point. 
Is  it  understood  ?  " 

"Yes,"  Steve  whispered,  "and  I'll  hang  till 
death." 

His  father  touched  his  lips  to  his  adherent's 
cheek.  "  Go  to  Charley  Myers  every  day, — you 
know  him?  " 

"  Yes,  the  saloon." 

"  Go  to  him  every  day  for  a  week,  until — here 
a  series  of  knocks  heavier  than  the  others  was  fol 
lowed  by  threats  of  breaking  down  the  door — "  un 
til  you  hear  from  me.  Now  open  the  door;  and 
keep  close  to  the  man  who  first  comes  in." 

It  was  skilfully  planned;  but  its  execution  de 
manded  presence  of  mind,  some  physical  strength, 
and  unshrinking  courage.  Mr.  Wadsworth  had 
participated  in  similar  affairs,  and  could  rely  upon 
himself;  but  his  present  backer  was  as  yet  untried. 
However,  as  Stephen  in  his  snowy  vestment  strode 

63 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

calmly  toward  the  resounding  door,  he  gave  promise 
of  these  essentials. 

When  he  opened  the  door,  a  man  of  heavy  build, 
without  waiting  for  any  words,  pushed  roughly  by 
him  into  the  dusky  parlor.  And  as  he  paused 
to  get  his  bearings,  the  ghostly  figure  that  fol 
lowed  close  upon  his  heels  moved  swiftly  to  his 
front. 

!<  Jim  Wadsworth,  you  are  my  prisoner."  Then 
the  father,  who  had  purposely  lingered  in  a  shadowy 
corner,  stepped  out  into  the  room. 

For  answer,  he  raised  an  arm  toward  the  in 
truder,  and  with  extended  finger  said  calmly  in  his 
usual  tone, — 

"  Jump." 

Whereupon  a  swift,  white  movement  toward  the 
officer's  legs  was  followed  by,  what  seemed  to  the 
recipient,  the  locking  of  iron  clamps  about  his  knees. 
At  the  same  instant  Mr.  Wadsworth  darted  by  him, 
out  into  the  hall.  The  man,  with  an  oath,  brought 
his  fist  against  the  side  of  Stephen's  head,  a  heavy 
blow.  Then  a  second, — and  a  third. 

Steve  winced,  and  buried  his  face  yet  deeper  be 
tween  the  twisting  legs.  But  he  tightened  his  grip. 
A  revolver,  a  long  and  heavy  one,  was  snatched 
from  a  trouser's  pocket,  held  aloft  by  the  barrel, 
and  brought  down  with  savage  force  upon  one  of 

64 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

the  arms  that  kept  this  much  needed  officer  from  the 
scuffle  in  the  hall. 

There  was  a  cry  of  pain,  involuntary  but  half 
suppressed,  and  the  fingers  of  that  hand  relaxed. 
The  broken  arm  hung  useless  from  the  shoulder, 
and  the  big  officer  wrenched  himself  away. 

But  Stephen  was  still  in  the  fight.  He  was  there 
for  victory  or  for  annihilation.  With  a  forward 
lurch,  as  the  man  turned  about,  he  threw  his  good 
arm  about  the  nearest  leg,  below  the  knee,  and 
squeezed  it  hard  against  his  head  and  shoulder. 
And  as  he  heard  a  cry  for  aid  from  his  father's 
adversary,  he  gripped  the  trouser  in  his  teeth, — for 
he  expected  another  blow,  and  another  blow  might 
break  another  arm. 

But  his  towering  prisoner  also  heard  the  cry,  and 
with  desperate  fury  again  brought  down  the  heavy 
metal  butt,  this  time  regardless  of  results.  It 
landed  on  Stephen's  skull.  The  head  drooped,  all 
the  muscles  of  the  clinging  body  relaxed,  and  the 
man  rushed  out  into  the  hall. 

He  found  his  comrade  stretched  upon  the  floor, 
bleeding  and  senseless.  Leaning  over  the  baluster, 
he  heard,  far  down,  the  squeak  of  sliding  hands 
along  the  stair  rail,  and  the  sound  as  of  some  one 
clearing  a  flight  at  a  time,  the  feet  only  touching  the 
steps  at  distant  intervals. 

6s 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

Straightening  up  and  looking  back  into  the  un- 
lighted  room,  he  sent  a  curse,  emphatic  and  com 
prehensive,  to  the  silent  victor  now  motionless  upon 
the  carpet. 


66 


ALL    THE    MUSCLES    OF    THE    CLINGING    BODY    RELAXED 


IV 


WITH  returning  consciousness  Steve 
opened  his  eyes.  He  closed  them, 
however,  in  a  painful  effort  to  recall 
his  previous  existence.  At  present  he  was  lying 
upon  a  bed  in  a  spacious  room,  with  other  beds 
on  either  side  of  him,  and  all  were  occupied.  A 
few  persons  moved  silently  about,  mostly  women 
in  gray,  with  white  caps  and  white  aprons.  In  his 
struggle  to  remember  what  could  have  happened  to 
bring  him  here  without  his  knowledge,  he  started 
to  sit  up,  and  discovered,  in  so  doing,  that  his  left 
arm  was  encased  in  a  hard,  unwieldy  substance,  and 
that  all  his  muscles  were  astonishingly  weak. 

One  of  the  women  in  gray  and  white  approached 
his  bedside  and  readjusted  the  coverlet  about  his 
shoulders.  Looking  up  into  the  face  that  was  bend 
ing  over  him,  he  inquired,  as  returning  memory  re 
vealed  a  fragment  of  the  past, — 

"Did  dad  get  away?" 

"Don't  think  about  that  now;  everything  is  all 
right.  Close  your  eyes  and  go  to  sleep  again." 

67 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"Did  dad  get  away?"  he  repeated  in  the 
impatient  tone  of  one  who  is  not  to  be  trifled 
with. 

It  was  a  hard  question  for  a  nurse  who  knew 
nothing  of  her  patient's  antecedents,  and  she 
hesitated. 

"  Did  you  want  him  to  get  away?  " 

"Of  course  I  did!"  and  into  his  feverish  face 
came  a  look  which  said  plainer  than  words,  "  What 
sort  of  a  fool  are  you,  anyway?" 

But  she  answered  gently,  with  a  soothing  hand 
upon  his  shoulder, — 

"  Yes,  he  got  away." 

Her  reward  was  a  smile  of  triumphant  joy,  ac 
companied  by  a  sidelong,  somewhat  boastful  move 
ment  of  the  bandaged  head,  conveying  the  impres 
sion  that  some  honor  was  due  in  a  quarter  not  to  be 
mentioned,  and  that  he,  the  wreck,  knew  more  about 
it  than  he  cared  to  tell.  But  this  was  followed  by  a 
more  serious  expression,  as  he  added,  with  a  con 
traction  of  the  eyebrows  as  in  painful  effort  to  un 
ravel  a  mystery, — 

"  I  don't  remember  the  last  part  of  it." 

"  There's  nothing  to  worry  about.  Your  arm  is 
all  nicely  set,  and  your  head  will  soon  be  as  good 


as  ever." 


"  My  head !    Was  that  hurt  ? 
68 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

"  Yes,  but  in  a  few  days  it  will  be  all  right 
again." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  now ;  "  and  with  a  smile  upon 
his  lips,  he  closed  his  eyes  in  that  glorified  content 
ment  known  only  to  the  victor  in  an  up-hill  fight. 

It  was  some  weeks  later  when  he  left  the  hos 
pital,  in  surprisingly  good  repair  considering  the 
damage  received.  To  his  annoyance  he  found  him 
self  an  object  of  sympathy,  as  his  arm  was  to  remain 
in  its  wrapping  a  few  days  longer,  and  of  course  he 
was  paler ;  but  that  only  intensified  the  honesty  of  his 
eyes,  and  added  to  the  general  interest. 

Although  glad  to  be  well  again,  his  return  to 
what  was  formerly  his  home  proved  a  melancholy 
joy.  The  familiar  rooms,  with  their  bird's-eye  view 
over  so  much  that  had  always  amused  him,  became 
now  a  depressing  reminder  of  his  departed  family. 
And  these  suddenly  vanished  parents  had  made  no 
provision  for  his  nourishment.  In  the  way  of 
money  he  had  nothing.  With  his  father's  relatives 
a  comfortable  and  a  permanent  home  could  be 
secured  and  without  the  asking ;  but  sooner  than  ac 
cept  it,  he  would  have  endured  with  cheerful  spirit 
every  possible  tribulation  of  a  roofless  independence. 
Toward  this  paternal  grandfather,  who  would  gladly 
have  assisted  him,  Stephen,  since  his  earliest  child 
hood,  had  borne  a  violent  prejudice.  And  this 

69 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

prejudice  extended  to  every  member  of  his  grand 
father's  household.  The  boy  had  made  various 
visits  to  the  homestead  in  Vermont  before  his 
father's  career  became  so  frankly  criminal  that  the 
family  were  compelled  to  close  the  door  against 
him. 

This  grandfather — a  truthful,  upright  man,  who 
respected  the  law  and  went  to  church  on  Sunday — 
had  endeavored  to  conduct  his  family  along  the 
pathway  of  a  reasonable  virtue.  But  for  Stephen 
such  an  atmosphere  had  no  attraction.  That  he, 
as  a  boy,  should  be  punished  for  theft  and  false 
hood  when  the  man  who  punished  him  was  not  the 
victim,  was  an  act  of  officious  tyranny  too  gro 
tesquely  virtuous  for  his  comprehension.  He  re 
mained  firm  in  the  belief  that  the  great  majority  of 
mankind  were  like  himself  and  his  respected  father; 
that  theft  and  falsehood  were  the  natural  evidences 
of  a  higher  intelligence.  His  sense  of  justice  being 
outraged  by  these  repeated  and  severe  rebukes,  he 
not  only  hated,  but  he  sincerely  despised,  this  mis 
comprehended  and — to  him — abnormal  grandfather. 

His  mother,  so  far  as  he  knew,  had  never  pos 
sessed  a  relative. 

During  the  first  day  of  his  return  his  hospital 
breakfast  sustained  him,  and  without  serious  dis 
comfort;  but  the  next  morning  an  inward  empti- 

70 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

ness  cried  sharply  for  attention.  When  he  stepped 
forth  into  the  street,  his  stomach  had  become  a 
yearning  void.  His  head,  however,  contained  a 
brilliant  scheme.  He  would  enter  the  restaurant 
which  he  and  his  parents  had  often  visited,  tell  the 
waiter  these  parents  would  soon  be  along,  order  a 
splendid  breakfast,  eat  most  of  it  himself,  then, 
with  an  affecting  display  of  filial  anxiety,  inform 
the  proprietor  of  his  fear  for  their  safety  and,  he 
hoped,  walk  safely  out.  It  happened,  however, 
either  by  chance  or  from  a  careless  providence,  that 
just  at  the  right  moment,  in  front  of  a  house  along 
his  route,  a  gouty  gentleman  with  a  round  face  and 
gray  side-whiskers,  emerged  cautiously  from  a  han 
som;  and,  while  supporting  himself  upon  a  cane, 
tendered  a  five-dollar  bill  to  the  driver.  The  driver 
shook  his  head,  and  expressed  regret  at  his  ina 
bility  to  change  it.  The  gentleman,  disappointed 
and  somewhat  annoyed,  and  while  deciding  upon  the 
least  troublesome  course,  was  struck  by  the  ap 
pearance  of  our  hero,  who  happened  to  be  passing. 
More  truthful  eyes  he  had  never  seen;  and  these 
eyes,  in  combination  with  a  pale  face  and  one  arm 
in  a  sling,  became  saintlike  in  their  innocence. 

He  stopped  the  boy,  and  as  he  looked  down  at 
shorter  range  into  the  cool  gray  orbs  that  met  his 
own,  he  experienced  a  spiritual  elevation ;  his  whole 

71 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

moral  nature  expanding,  as  it  were,  under  their  en 
nobling  influence.  Gazing  into  these  translucent 
depths,  he  felt  a  sense  of  shame  at  his  own  impurity ; 
and  when  he  asked  the  owner  of  these  eyes  if  he 
would  run  across  to  the  apothecary  at  the  next 
corner  and  get  the  change  for  the  bill,  he  regretted 
the  insignificance  of  the  sum,  wishing  it  a  hundred 
dollars  instead  of  five,  that  he  might  reward  such 
exceptional  honesty  by  a  more  proportionate  con 
fidence. 

"  Yes,  sir,  of  course ;  but  the  surgeon  says  I 
mustn't  run  or  jump  with  this  arm." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right ;  only  walk  fast,  and  I  will 
see  that  you  don't  lose  by  it." 

He  turned,  as  the  messenger  departed,  and  moved 
painfully  across  the  sidewalk.  Stephen's  first 
thought  when  he  stepped  out  into  the  street,  going 
diagonally  across  toward  the  apothecary's,  was  of 
the  pleasure  this  money  could  afford  if  converted 
into  food.  His  second  thought,  so  closely  allied  to 
the  first  as  to  form  a  part  of  it,  consisted  merely  of 
a  quick  resolve  to  elude  the  gouty  gentleman  and 
retain  the  bill.  In  reaching  this  decision  there  was 
no  moral  struggle.  The  good  angel  who  whispers 
to  the  would-be  sinner  was  not  present  on  this  occa 
sion.  That  angel  and  this  boy  had  never  met. 

Before  reaching  the  middle  of  the  street  Steve 
72 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

had  made  a  rapid  survey  of  the  field  of  action  and 
had  formed  a  plan.'  When  he  stepped  upon  the 
curbstone  in  front  of  the  druggist's,  he  saw  by  a 
backward  glance  that  the  recent  owner  of  the  bill 
was  still  moving  painfully  across  the  sidewalk,  and 
that  the  driver,  whose  back  was  toward  him,  had 
begun  an  absorbing  operation  upon  the  snapper  of 
his  whip. 

With  a  quicker  gait  he  turned  the  corner,  stopped 
for  another  look,  and  then,  being  unobserved,  he 
ran  his  fastest.  His  arm,  he  knew,  was  safe  un 
less  he  fell  or  struck  it.  It  was  a  short  block,  and  he 
soon  reached  the  other  avenue,  where  he  slowed  up, 
partly  on  account  of  his  arm,  which  a  collision  might 
injure,  and  partly  from  the  protection  afforded  by 
the  greater  crowd. 

For  additional  precaution  he  walked  rapidly  a 
block  or  two,  then,  with  an  outward  smile  and  an 
inward  peace,  selected  his  restaurant.  The  place 
he  chose  was  one  of  the  first  he  came  to,  as  the 
emptiness  of  his  interior  had  become  a  positive  pain. 
This  restaurant,  the  width  of  an  ordinary  house, 
contained  rows  of  tables  on  either  side,  their  ends 
against  the  wall,  each  table  seating  four  persons. 
At  one  of  these  tables  Stephen  seated  himself,  and 
gave  his  order.  The  order  was  unusually  compre 
hensive,  and  the  waiter  smiled  as  he  received  it. 

73 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  That's  a  big  dinner,  bub ;  sure  you  want  to  pay 
for  all  that?" 

The  guest  took  a  five-dollar  bill  from  his  pocket 
and  unfolded  it  in  an  off-hand  manner. 

"  I  guess  it  won't  cost  more'n  five  dollars,  will 
it?" 

"  No,  that's  all  right.  But  yer  dead  sure  yer  can 
git  away  with  all  yer've  ordered?" 

"  Yes,  and  more  too.  And  make  it  two  portions 
of  steak." 

"Which  will  yer  have  first?" 

"  Bring  it  all  at  once ;  "  and  he  said  to  himself, 
as  the  waiter  departed,  "  It'll  be  bully  to  look  at  all 
the  rest  of  it  while  I'm  eating," 

When  the  feast  was  spread  before  him,  he  gazed 
with  intoxicated  senses  upon  the  throng  of  dishes. 
No  sunset  sky  ever  poured  into  a  painter's  soul  one- 
half  the  beauty  that  came  to  the  yearning  Stephen 
from  the  contemplation  of  his  steak  and  fried 
potatoes ;  from  the  sausages,  the  omelette,  the  buck 
wheat  cakes,  the  oysters,  the  stewed  tomatoes,  the 
egg-plant,  and  the  custard-pie.  He  began  with  the 
custard-pie;  for  now  that  he  was  his  own  master, 
why  not  eat  in  the  order  that  pleased  him  best  ? 

Never  before  had  he  realized  his  full  capacity  for 
pleasure.  Hunger  and  food, — a  combination  for 
the  gods!  And  he  was  tasting  it  in  its  fulness. 

74 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

After  the  custard-pie  he  ate  the  fried  oysters; 
and  the  hollowness  within  began  to  yield  to  a  celes 
tial  calm  that  gladdened  the  remotest  corners  of  his 
soul.  He  looked  about  upon  the  other  diners,  and 
his  previous  hostility  soon  yielded  to  a  friendly  in 
terest. 

When  he  entered  the  restaurant,  there  were  many 
vacant  seats,  and  thus  far  he  had  been  alone  at  his 
little  table;  but  as  the  last  oysters  disappeared,  the 
two  opposite  chairs  were  occupied  by  fresh  arrivals, 
a  woman  in  black  and  a  little  girl.  As  the  woman 
seated  herself  in  front  of  Stephen,  their  glances  met, 
and  the  expression  of  her  face  underwent  a  sud 
den  change.  She  seemed  surprised  and  even 
startled.  He  felt  uneasy.  Could  she  be  the  wife  or 
sister  of  the  man  whose  stolen  dollars  he  was  so 
thoroughly  enjoying?  And  had  she  recognized 
him?  With  a  frown  he  shifted  his  glance  to  the 
little  girl.  In  her  face  also,  as  her  eyes  encountered 
his,  came  a  similar  astonishment.  He  read  on  both 
their  faces  what  appeared  an  unwelcome  recogni 
tion.  But  the  child  made  no  effort  to  conceal  her 
surprise,  and  exclaimed  in  an  audible  whisper, — 

"  Why,  mamma,  his  eyes  are  just  like  Mr. 
Folsom's!" 

"  Hush,  Filippa !  " 

But  the  mother's  gaze,  as  if  by  a  fascination  be- 
75 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

yond  her  control,  still  clung  to  Stephen's  eyes.  Her 
own  eyes,  naturally  earnest  and  somewhat  intense  in 
their  expression,  showed  at  the  present  moment  an 
unusual  excitement.  Leaning  slightly  forward,  and 
in  an  obvious  effort  to  assume  a  friendly  manner, 
she  said : 

"  Excuse  me,  but  what  is  your  name  ?  " 

The  suspicious  youth,  obeying  an  instinct  of  self- 
preservation  which  had  been  abnormally  sharpened 
by  his  own  career  and  by  his  father's  life  and  teach 
ings,  answered,  with  easy  promptness, — 

"  Henry." 

"  And  your  last  name  ?  " 

"  Simmons." 

She  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  disappointed.  The 
waiter  took  her  order.  It  consisted  merely  of  one 
portion  of  soup,  and  bread  and  butter.  But  the 
daughter,  whose  appetite  was  not  in  harmony  with 
such  a  meagre  lunch,  laid  a  hand  on  her  mother's 
arm,  and,  looking  up  into  her  face,  exclaimed  in 
beseeching  tones, — 

"  Oh,  mamma,  have  more  than  that !  Have 
things  like  those !  "  and  she  pointed  with  the  other 
hand  to  the  riotous  profusion  of  their  neighbor's 
dishes. 

"  Hush,  darling.  Wait  until  supper ;  then  you 
shall  have  more." 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

But  on  the  mother's  face  came  a  look  that  told 
how  painful  the  denial.  The  child  said  no  more. 
Her  eyes,  however,  were  fixed  upon  the  array  of 
steaming  dishes  with  a  look  that  spoke  plainly  of 
an  inward  need.  The  wide,  cheerful  little  face  had 
frequently  taken  this  expression  since  the  sudden 
calamity  which  had  driven  her  mother  and  herself 
to  the  strictest  economies. 

The  little  scene  was  not  lost  upon  Steve,  and  he 
reflected.  His  reflections  were  broken  by  another 
question  from  the  persistent  mother,  who  inquired 
in  a  manner  designed  to  avert  suspicion, — 

"  Does  your  father  look  like  you  ?  " 

But  Steve's  suspicions  were  of  a  character  not 
easily  allayed. 

"No,  ma'am,  not  at  all." 

"  What  sort  of  a  looking  man  is  he  ?  " 

While  the  wary  youth  was  hesitating,  uncertain 
as  to  which  manner  of  lie  would  best  serve  the  pur 
pose,  a  new  arrival,  just  seating  himself  at  a  table 
behind  his  questioner,  unconsciously  supplied  him 
with  material. 

"  He's  short  and  fat,  with  a  big,  red,  shiny  face, 
fat  lips,  and  a  funny  nose." 

With  this  answer  her  final  hope  departed.  She 
sighed,  and  relinquished  the  attack.  And  this  an 
swer,  as  far  as  Stephen  could  judge,  seemed  to 

77 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

soften  her  heart  and  bring  a  friendly  feeling,  for 
she  inquired — and  this  time  in  a  voice  that  was 
honestly  sympathetic — if  he  would  not  like  her  to 
cut  his  steak,  as  he  seemed  helpless,  only  one  of  his 
hands  being  available.  He  thanked  her,  and  grate 
fully  accepted  the  assistance,  while  insisting,  in  his 
turn,  upon  their  partaking  of  the  dish, — an  offer 
declined  by  the  parent,  but  accepted  with  celerity 
and  enthusiasm  by  the  eager  daughter.  And  she 
devoured  her  steak  with  a  relish  that  brought  a 
moisture  to  the  mother's  eyes.  The  dispenser  of 
this  joy  was  now  experiencing  that  combination  of 
benevolence  and  superiority  so  satisfying  to  the 
liberal  giver.  Pausing  for  a  moment  between  his 
final  sausage  and  the  buckwheat  cakes,  he  straight 
ened  up  in  his  chair,  and  over  his  exuberant  break 
fast  sent  a  smile  to  the  recipient  of  his  bounty.  She 
returned  it  with  interest,  and  expressed,  by  a  nod, 
a  hearty  appreciation  of  her  blessings.  Of  the  fried 
potatoes  she  also  partook,  at  his  request,  her  mother 
having  ceased  to  object,  as  in  the  presence  of  such 
lavish  abundance  there  seemed  little  danger  that  the 
host  could  suffer  from  any  reasonable  diminution  of 
his  store. 

Out  of  a  little  black  bag — a  sort  of  wallet — that 
she  had  previously  laid  upon  the  table,  the  mother 
hurriedly  drew  a  heavy  gold  watch,  but  after  study- 

78 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

ing  it  a  moment,  seemed  to  decide  there  was  no 
cause  for  hurry,  and  replaced  it.  Steve  wondered 
why  such  a  handsome  watch  should  be  without  a 
chain.  There  was  once  a  chain,  however,  and  it 
also  was  of  gold,  but  a  week  before  it  had  been  ex 
changed,  with  other  articles,  for  money  to  purchase 
food. 

Filippa,  who  became  more  and  more  sociable  un 
der  the  influence  of  a  hearty  meal,  exclaimed  with 
her  customary  enthusiasm, — 

"  I  had  a  gold  ring  just  like  yours !  " 

Steve  nodded ;  but  as  no  answer  was  required,  he 
continued  with  his  cakes. 

"  But  mine  had  an  inscription  in  it." 

"  So  has  mine,"  he  replied,  bending  forward  as 
he  spoke,  and  closing  his  lips  over  a  rapturous  com 
bination  of  cake  and  syrup. 

"  Really  ?    What  does  yours  say  ?  " 

His  mouth  was  too  crowded  for  an  immediate  an 
swer;  but  Filippa  could  not  wait,  and  she  con 
tinued, — 

"  Mine  had  in  it,  written  along  the  inside, 
'  To  F.  W.  Z.'  Those  are  my  initials,  and  stand 
for  Filippa  Whitehouse  Zabarelli.  And  then,  after 
that,  it  said,  '  God  Bless  the  Wearer.'  " 

For  a  second  the  boy  stopped  eating  and  regarded 
her  with  a  look  of  surprise.  He  remembered  the 

79 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

inscription   well,   and   began   to   wonder  how  his 
father  got  it. 

"  Yes,"  said  Filippa ;  and  she  nodded  her  head, 
accepting  his  surprise  as  the  natural  tribute  to  a  bit 
of  exciting  news. 

But  the  wily  youth  knew  his  own  father,  and 
again  drew  on  his  armor.  Turning  his  eyes  to  the 
mother,  he  found  she  also  was  watching  him,  but 
whether  from  a  harmless  interest  in  the  conversa 
tion  or  from  fresh  doubts  as  to  his  rightful  owner 
ship  of  the  ring  he  could  not  discover. 

The  girl  repeated  her  question, — 

"What  does  yours  say?" 

"  Mine  says,  *  To  Stephen,'  but  there  is  nothing 
after  that." 

"Who  is  Stephen?" 

"  Why,  me  of  course.    It  was  given  to  me." 

Here  the  mother,  in  a  voice  that  bore  unmis 
takable  evidence  of  a  renewed  distrust,  said 
rapidly, — 

"  But  I  thought  you  told  me  your  name  was 
Henry?" 

There  was  a  pause  in  which  the  hearty  eater 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  her  presence.  He  poured 
more  syrup  upon  his  cakes. 

"  You  told  me  your  name  was  Henry,"  she  re 
peated. 

80 


Dr   Thome's  Idea 

"  Well,  a  feller  can  have  two  names.  I  know 
a  boy  that's  got  four !  " 

"  Then  your  name  is  Stephen  Henry  Simmons  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  And  they  call  you  Henry  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

And  he  looked  her  straight  in  the  face  with  a 
smile  which,  in  combination  with  his  eyes,  was  ac 
customed  to  disarm  suspicion.  But  in  this  case  the 
combination  was  a  failure.  Mrs.  Zabarelli  had 
found  that  eyes  the  counterpart  of  these  could  cover 
a  heart  too  false  for  human  safety. 

And  there  was  something  in  the  manner  of  his 
answer  that  put  a  blight  upon  the  good  opinion  she 
had  been  laboring  to  establish.  During  the  re 
mainder  of  the  meal  she  said  no  more  to  him,  and 
he  was  sensitive  to  the  hostile  atmosphere.  Filippa, 
however,  chattered  on  at  intervals  until  she  had  swal 
lowed  every  morsel  of  her  steak;  and  when  they 
rose  to  go,  she  thanked  ^him,  at  her  mother's 
suggestion,  and  emphasized  her  gratitude  by  a 
courtesy. 

This  courtesy,  elaborate  and  un-American  in  char 
acter,  in  which  perhaps  she  had  been  drilled  by  her 
uncle,  Signor  Guglielmo  Onofredo  Travaggini 
Biffi  Titinnio  Zabarelli,  was  partially  lost  upon  the 
recipient,  who  sat  low  in  his  chair  and  whose  own 

81 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

head  came  not  far  above  his  breakfast.  Filippa's 
face,  which  was  about  on  a  level  with  the  table  when 
she  stood  erect,  disappeared  entirely  from  his  vision 
in  the  execution  of  the  movement.  For  an  instant 
he  thought  she  had  sat  upon  the  floor;  but  as  her 
friendly  smile  came  up  again  to  view,  he  divined 
the  motive  of  the  ceremony  and  nodded  his  acknowl 
edgment.  Her  mother  also  thanked  him  politely,  but 
obviously  from  a  sense  of  duty. 

They  had  gone  but  a  moment  when  Steve  de 
tected,  beneath  a  corner  of  a  napkin,  the  wallet  that 
contained  the  watch.  His  eyes  brightened,  and 
his  heart  beat  faster  with  a  fresh  excitement. 

Here  was  a  find !  The  five  dollars  he  now  pos 
sessed  was  as  nothing  to  it!  What  lots  of  dollars 
such  a  watch  would  bring!  Through  his  head  came 
a  swift  procession  of  the  joys  within  his  grasp. 
And  he  must  hurry  up  and  get  away  before  she 
should  miss  it  and  return. 

But,  along  with  this  procession,  came  the  memory 
of  Filippa,  her  hunger  and  her  cheerful  little  face. 
He  recalled  the  niggardly  lunch  she  would  have 
eaten  if  he,  the  rescuer,  had  not  been  present. 
Steve  frowned  and  bit  his  lip  at  the  thought  of  in 
viting  a  girl  to  breakfast,  securing  her  friendship, 
receiving  her  thanks  and  courtesies,  and  then 
"  swiping  "  the  family  watch. 

82 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

No!  not  that!  He  had  no  ambition  to  be  good, 
but — there  were  limits. 

Quickly  he  snatched  the  bag,  and  acting  upon 
an  impulse  of  which  he  was  secretly  ashamed  and 
in  whose  duration  he  had  little  confidence,  he  ran 
out  of  the  restaurant,  overtook  his  new  acquaint 
ances  on  the  sidewalk,  and  returned  the  property. 
Filippa  greeted  him  with  a  cordial  smile,  while  her 
mother,  with  a  sudden  pallor,  pressed  a  hand  to  her 
heart,  as  she  realized  how  narrow  was  her  escape 
from  an  irretrievable  loss.  Her  expressions  of 
gratitude  were  effusive,  and  she  was  ashamed  of  the 
wrong  she  had  done  him.  But  he  waited  not  for 
thanks,  and  hurried  back  to  his  unfinished  meal. 

While  mortified  at  having  yielded  to  a  foolish  im 
pulse,  his  shame  was  tempered  by  the  knowledge 
that  several  of  his  favorite  heroes,  men  prominent 
in  highway  robbery,  in  piracy,  and  in  promiscuous 
crime,  had  more  than  once,  where  women  and  chil 
dren  were  involved,  been  equally  weak.  And  there 
was  another  consolation:  his  father  would  never 
know  it. 

On  leaving  the  restaurant  he  experienced  a  sat 
isfying  solidity  in  welcome  contrast  to  his  recent 
emptiness.  He  felt  more  important.  He  was  less 
suspicious,  and  he  took  pride  and  pleasure  in  a 
brazen  indifference  as  to  whether  the  former  owner 

83 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

of  the  bill  might  discover  him  or  not.  And  Nature 
had  been  so  thorough  in  Steve's  physical  outfit  that 
he  suffered  no  discomfort  from  the  profusion  and 
complexity  of  his  feast. 

But  later  in  the  afternoon  he  encountered  signs 
of  trouble  against  which  his  digestion  and  his  stolen 
money  were  of  no  avail.  A  sheriff,  with  an  auc 
tioneer,  was  making  a  list  of  the  various  objects 
that  comprised  his  home;  and  before  they  departed 
the  janitor  showed  the  apartment  to  a  couple  of 
women  who,  as  prospective  tenants,  found  it  ex 
actly  what  they  needed. 

Occupying  his  favorite  perch,  the  parlor  window- 
seat,  while  the  various  invaders  were  moving  about 
from  one  chamber  to  another,  he  leaned  out  and 
looked  with  mournful  eyes  over  the  far-reaching 
city,  with  its  glittering  river  on  either  side,  its  un 
ceasing  hum,  its  countless  chimneys,  its  flags,  its 
towers,  and  its  purple  distance;  all  familiar,  and  all 
so  closely  associated  with  his  vanished  parents  that 
unmanly  tears  obscured  his  vision,  and  he  drew  a 
grimy  knuckle  across  his  eyes.  It  seemed  now  an 
other  city,  less  his  own  and  not  so  friendly.  A  city 
that  could  swallow  up  two  parents  in  a  single  night 
was  a  thing  to  be  mistrusted. 

And  far  below  him  he  looked  down  upon  a  group 
of  children  dancing  about  an  organ-grinder.  Faintly 


Dr   Thome's    Idea 

he  could  hear  the  music,  a  plantive  little  tune,  which 
so  intensified  his  loneliness  that  his  knuckles  were 
insufficient,  and  he  was  compelled  to  draw  a  sleeve 
across  his  cheek. 

On  the  following  day  more  people  inspected  the 
apartment,  and  the  preparations  for  an  auction  were 
continued.  That  this  home  was  no  longer  his  he 
realized  with  a  saddened  spirit,  but  from  those 
about  him  he  took  every  precaution  to  conceal  his 
feelings. 

A  woman  who  occupied  a  lower  apartment  of  the 
building  offered  to  adopt  him,  for  the  present  at 
least;  and  another  acquaintance  of  his  father,  a  man 
with  no  children,  made  a  similar  offer.  The  jani 
tor's  wife  suggested  an  institution  for  orphans. 

But  Steve  had  plans  of  his  own.  The  thought 
of  being  adopted  by  a  respectable  family  and 
brought  up  in  a  respectable  way  was  in  violation  of 
every  instinct  of  his  being.  He  had  read  several 
books,  and  his  course  of  reading,  in  which  he  had 
not  been  bothered  by  his  parents,  consisted  almost 
exclusively  of  stories  of  adventure,  of  the  lives  and 
deeds  of  famous  pugilists,  pirates,  train-robbers, 
burglars,  and  highwaymen ;  and  now,  fired  by  their 
example,  and  unhampered  by  parental  authority,  he 
would  leave  school  behind  him  and  be  a  man  at 
once.  Like  many  sons,  he  had  made  a  more  careful 

85 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

study  of  his  father  than  that  person  had  suspected. 
His  knowledge  of  what  Mr.  Wadsworth  alluded  to 
as  his  "  business "  was  of  course  somewhat  un 
defined,  but  for  his  father's  character  and  methods, 
so  far  as  he  could  know  them,  his  admiration  was 
unbounded.  From  association  with  this  parent  and 
from  a  natural  bent,  Steve  had  developed  some 
clear  ideas  upon  humanity,  and  upon  the  world  at 
large.  Without  defining  this  philosophy  himself 
he  classified  mankind  into  two  divisions, — 

Those  who  possessed  wit  and  courage. 

Those  who  were  honest. 

That  the  latter  should  be  the  prey  of  their  more 
interesting  brethren  was  a  conclusion  requiring  no 
argument.  For  the  honest  ones,  the  "  suckers," — 
he  enjoyed  an  amiable  but  distinct  contempt,  and 
he  had  no  intention  of  serving  in  their  ranks.  The 
police,  of  course,  were  the  natural  enemies  of 
progress. 

In  accordance  with  these  beliefs  he  outlined  his 
own  career,  and  decided  upon  immediate  action. 
As  a  preliminary  detail  he  communed  with  Davey 
Knox.  Davey's  tastes  and  moral  outfit  bore  a 
dull  resemblance  to  his  own,  and  they  decided  to 
see  the  world  together.  While  Davey  was  by  no 
means  Steve's  conception  of  a  hero,  he  was  the 
only  boy  available.  Steve  knew  him  to  be  a  liar 

86 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

and  a  thief,  both  of  which  were  needed  in  the  life 
before  them;  he  also  knew  him  to  be  a  coward,  and 
for  this  he  despised  him.  But  in  enterprises  where 
virtue  is  a  hindrance,  one  must  not  be  too  punctilious 
as  to  associates. 


THE  glory  of  a  perfect  day  descended  as 
with  a  special  blessing  upon  a  church 
at    Lynstock.      This    sanctuary,    not    a 
hundred  miles  from  New  York,  held  the  centre  of  a 
faultless  lawn,  and  was  of  simple  but  satisfying 
architecture.     The  material  was  of  hammered  stone. 
Occupying  the  choicest  site  in  the  choicest  of  New 
England  villages,  it  sheltered  this  August  Sunday, 
— as  on  other  Sundays, — the  choicest  people. 

Other  sanctuaries,  resorts  of  promiscuous  out 
siders,  were  scattered  along  the  village,  all  of  wood, 
old-fashioned  and  painted  white,  with  massive 
columns  of  a  heathen  pattern;  but  those  who  by 
especial  purity  had  achieved  a  closer  friendship  with 
the  Lord  were  ensconced  in  this  Episcopal  temple. 
Not  only  were  the  worshippers  themselves  of  finer 
clay,  but  all  their  belongings  gave  token  of  a 
similar  excellence.  Even  the  row  of  carriages 
beneath  the  shadowing  elms  across  the  way  bore 
outward  evidence  of  the  loftiest  aims.  In  fact,  a 

88 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

comparison  of  these  blameless  equipages  with  the 
cheaper  vehicles  about  the  other  shrines  offered 
convincing  testimony  as  to  which  religion  was  the 
safest  guide. 

Within  this  temple  the  atmosphere  was  yet  more 
decorous.  All  stained  glass,  all  mural  decorations 
and  other  fittings  were,  like  the  members  of  the 
congregation,  expensively  quiet  and  in  perfect  taste. 
And  the  congregation,  while  comporting  itself  with 
the  impressiveness  of  a  piety  above  reproach,  gave 
evidence  of  that  satisfying  holiness  born  only  of 
solid  opulence  and  correct  attire.  Concerning  the 
celestial  prospects  of  those  present,  there  was,  if  one 
could  judge  by  appearances,  no  cause  for  alarm. 

The  painted  heads  of  the  twelve  apostles  above 
the  pulpit  bore  a  troubled  air,  as  if  abashed  by  an 
unmerited  patronage.  They  suspected  perhaps,  this 
dozen  common  men,  the  irony  of  their  present 
elevation.  They  may  have  compared  it  with  their 
probable  reception  had  they  presented  themselves 
in  the  flesh  at  the  mansions  of  the  cautious  worship 
pers  in  the  pews  below.  The  episcopacy  of  these 
worshippers  was  the  result  of  inheritance  and  en 
vironment.  Another  and  a  different  religion,  if 
indorsed  by  the  proper  persons,  would  have  been 
adopted  with  the  same  complacency  and  main 
tained  with  the  same  decision. 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

Upon  this  occasion  there  were,  as  usual,  fewer 
men  than  women.  Nearly  every  pew  was  occupied, 
for  the  clergyman  was  a  preacher  of  distinction. 
He  was  a  man  about  fifty  years  of  age,  large  of 
frame,  with  a  massive  head  and  somewhat  heavy 
features.  In  his  hair,  carelessly  arranged  and  ob 
viously  with  little  heed  from  its  owner,  were  shades 
of  gray.  His  skin,  partly  from  exposure,  was 
brown  and  rather  dark;  his  eyes  were  also  brown, 
and  with  their  heavy  lids  and  straight  eyebrows  high 
above,  gave  an  impression  of  repose  and  strength. 
A  certain  awkwardness  of  figure  was  intensified  by 
the  shortness  of  his  neck  and  by  a  roundness  about 
the  shoulders. 

He  had  been  speaking  in  a  general  way  of  the 
duties  of  life  and  of  the  obligations  of  wealth,  and 
he  expressed  himself  with  a  clearness  and  decision 
that  drove  languor  from  the  eyelids  of  every  Croesus 
in  the  church.  If  there  previously  existed,  in  the 
minds  of  the  present  congregation,  any  doubt  or 
mystery  as  to  why  the  average  millionaire,  although 
envied  for  his  wealth,  was  not  an  object  of  affec 
tion  among  the  poor,  he  now  removed  it.  His 
language  was  not  ambiguous.  His  voice,  rich, 
full,  and  finely  modulated,  held  the  attention  of 
every  person  in  the  building. 

And  the  building  had  seldom  been  so  crowded. 
90 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

For  Dr.  Thorne  was  not  only  a  preacher  of  singular 
eloquence,  but  his  life  and  character  had  given  him 
an  exceptional  position.  Although  a  native  of  the 
town,  and  the  personal  friend  of  many  in  the  con 
gregation,  he  seldom  occupied  this  pulpit.  His  own 
pastorate,  one  of  the  richest  and  most  influential 
in  New  York,  he  had  resigned  the  previous  winter, 
in  the  belief  that  he  could  be  of  greater  usefulness 
in  other  and  quite  different  fields. 

But  this  calling  to  account  of  millionaires  was  in 
cidental.  It  served,  however,  even  if  its  effects  were 
temporary,  to  arouse  the  attention  and  disturb  the 
peace  of  certain  members  of  the  congregation.  For 
Dr.  Thorne  knew  his  fellow-men,  and  he  knew  too 
well  that  threats  of  future  brimstone  or  guarantee 
of  heavenly  recompense  would  never  startle  Midas. 

As  the  sermon  proceeded,  it  became  evident,  from 
the  silence  throughout  the  church  and  from  the 
vigilance  of  his  listeners,  that  something  of  more 
than  ordinary  interest  was  before  them.  The  older 
men  were  surprised,  and  followed  him  with  straining 
ears  to  be  sure  they  heard  aright.  The  younger  men 
received  his  words  in  a  similar  spirit,  but  with  faces 
reflecting  the  earnestness  and,  at  times,  the  en 
thusiasm  of  the  speaker.  But  every  woman,  old  or 
young,  took  in  his  words  with  eager  interest  and 
with  brightening  eyes.  And  this  surprise  and  in- 

91 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

terest  were  augmented  by  the  knowledge  that  Dr. 
Thorne  was  not  a  person  of  careless  impulse  or 
unconsidered  speech,  but  a  man  of  large  experience 
and  of  sober  judgment. 

The  remarks  which  were  causing  this  unwonted 
consideration  related  to  the  advent  of  our  Saviour, 
After  asserting,  not  as  a  theological  deduction  but  as 
an  authenticated  fact,  that  Christ  had  appeared  upon 
the  earth  at  various  epochs  since  the  Crucifixion,  he 
went  on  to  explain  why  such  appearances  were  in 
perfect  harmony  with  His  life  and  precepts,  and,  if 
thoughtfully  considered,  need  cause  no  surprise.  All 
who  believed  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul  believed 
that  Christ,  though  crucified,  would  ever  remain  a 
living  entity.  And  if  this  be  true,  he  argued,  it 
certainly  is  not  in  accordance  with  our  conception 
of  His  character  that  during  these  centuries  of  hu 
man  doubt  and  human  suffering  He,  whose  mission 
it  was  to  console  and  guide,  should  remain  an  in 
different  observer. 

"  His  life  and  teachings,"  he  continued,  "  were 
not  those  of  one  who  holds  himself  aloof,  in  frigid 
state,  ignoring  the  prayers,  the  hopes,  the  lives  and 
deaths  of  countless  millions  of  his  followers.  More 
over,  if  sent  among  us  by  a  benevolent  Creator  upon 
so  stupendous  a  duty  as  the  redemption  of  mankind, 
such  a  duty,  if  begun  in  earnest,  would  never  be 

92 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

abandoned  after  one  brief  experiment,  and  at  a  time 
when  three-quarters  of  the  earth  was  yet  unpeopled. 
Were  the  future  millions  yet  unborn  to  rely,  during 
twenty  centuries  at  least,  upon  translations  from  an 
unspoken  language,  for  a  word  from  their  Re 
deemer?" 

He  continued  in  calm  but  impressive  tones : 
"  If  Christ's  spoken  words,  if  His  personality  or 
His  living  presence,  are  needful  to  those  wavering  in 
their  allegiance,  if  a  sign  will  save  them, — is  that 
sign  to  be  withheld?  If  we  may  believe  His  own 
words,  He  considered  faith  of  first  importance.  If 
•we  honestly  believe  in  His  previous  coming,  why 
doubt  the  coming  of  to-day  ?  " 

Thus  far  the  listeners  throughout  the  church  had 
followed  him  with  attentive  interest.  This  interest 
became  keener  and  more  alert  when  Dr.  Thorne, 
with  the  calm  conviction  of  one  who  knows  whereof 
he  speaks,  declared  that  Christ  had  revisited  this 
earth  not  once,  but  many  times, — in  our  own  day, 
and  here,  in  our  own  land, — not  in  spirit  only,  but 
bodily,  as  a  fellow-man;  that  He  had  cheered  the 
despairing,  encouraged  the  weak,  and  given  life  and 
hope  to  those  whose  burdens  were  greater  than  their 
strength. 

And  there  swept  through  the  congregation  a  fresh 
emotion,  as  they  received  the  statement  that  the 

93 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

speaker  himself,  if  at  liberty  to  do  so,  could  produce 
a  witness,  a  personal  friend  of  many  now  before  him, 
who  had  been  this  very  year  in  the  presence  of  our 
Lord.  Moreover,  this  Presence  was  no  illusion,  nor 
the  dream  of  a  man  in  sickness  who  mistook  for 
realities  the  products  of  his  own  imagination.  He 
had  felt  the  touch  of  a  soothing  hand,  and  received 
words  from  living  lips  that  turned  the  current  of 
his  life. 

This  announcement  was  received  in  solemn 
silence.  Not  the  rustle  of  a  gown  or  the  move 
ment  of  a  fan  disturbed  the  stillness  of  the  church. 
But,  as  Dr.  Thorne  knew  well,  there  were  many  who 
would  deny  his  testimony  and  deride  his  faith. 
Among  these  was  a  gentleman  of  sixty  or  there 
abouts,  with  blooming  face  and  serene  expression, 
whose  speculative  eyes  and  whose  whiskers,  snowy 
but  alert,  gave  hints  of  what  he  was, — a  person 
of  importance.  Leisurely  he  turned  his  head  and 
looked  across  the  aisle.  Meeting  the  glance  of 
another  financial  triumph,  not  unlike  himself  in  ex 
pression,  in  raiment,  and  in  years,  he  slowly  raised 
his  eyebrows, — the  fraction  of  an  inch, — and  in 
so  doing  conveyed  distinctly,  as  in  words,  his  opin 
ion  of  the  parson. 

But  Dr.  Thorne,  in  that  respect,  was  under  no 
illusion.  He  was  not  making  this  effort  with  any 

94 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

hope  of  penetrating  the  heart  of  capital.  Too  well 
he  knew  and  understood  the  impregnable  golden 
armor  of  certain  members  in  this  congregation. 
There  were  others,  however,  who  by  recent  afflic 
tion,  by  trials  beyond  their  force,  or  by  a  hopeless 
sorrow,  had  come  nearer  the  portals  of  that  other 
world;  and  to  these,  by  look,  by  meaning,  and  by 
brotherly  compassion,  he  spoke,  and  not  in  vain. 

The  sermon,  calmly  and  impressively  delivered, 
proceeded  to  the  end,  and  notwithstanding  its 
purport  brought  conviction  to  certain  of  its  hearers. 
For  to  these  there  was  evidence  of  something  more 
than  theory  coming  thus  from  one  of  large  ex 
perience,  whose  truth  and  honor  were  above  re 
proach. 

After  the  service  certain  friends  and  acquaint 
ances  remained, — some  to  congratulate  him  upon 
his  sermon,  others  to  ask  a  question  or  to  express 
their  regret  at  the  rarity  of  his  visits.  Most  of  them 
were  wromen,  representing  various  degrees  of  en 
thusiasm  or  of  religious  fervor,  or  of  curiosity  and 
friendly  interest;  but  all,  even  those  who  fluttered 
and  gushed  with  a  graceful  excitement,  were  self- 
possessed  and  faultless  in  attire.  One  or  two  were 
patronizing,  not  with  intent,  but  from  force  of  habit. 

Dr.  Thorne  received  this  shower  of  words  with 
outward  gratitude  and  with  his  usual  composure. 

95 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

This  composure  bore  a  faint  resemblance  to  that 
patience  with  which  a  Saint  Bernard  allows  kit 
tens  to  scramble  over  his  back.  They  may  tickle  or 
annoy,  but  he  takes  them  for  what  they  are.  As 
to  inquiries  concerning  the  subject  of  his  sermon, 
he  turned  them  aside  politely,  but  with  decision, 
replying,  in  answer  to  the  most  frequent  question, 
that  the  person  referred  to  wished  no  publicity. 
There  was  another  gentleman  present  who  also 
received  attention,  and  from  its  quality  he  appeared 
a  person  of  distinction.  Moreover,  he  bore  himself 
as  one  accustomed  to  receive  this  sort  of  tribute. 
While  more  impressive  in  his  manner  than  Dr. 
Thorne,  it  was  evident,  nevertheless,  that  these  at 
tentions  caused  him  far  more  pleasure  than  an 
noyance.  But  this  pleasure  was  suitably  repressed, 
and  even  stately.  No  human  being  would  have  pre 
sumed  upon  it. 

He  was  a  bishop,  not  only  by  terrestrial  appoint 
ment,  but,  obviously,  by  design  of  his  Creator.  He 
had  the  manner  and  expression,  the  mouth  and 
voice,  the  bearing,  the  head  and  legs,  and  the  cheer 
ful  gravity  of  a  bishop.  No  attribute  was  wanting. 
He  was  of  suitable  height,  erect,  bald-headed,  well 
nourished,  and  impressive.  His  features  were  regu 
lar,  and  his  honesty  unquestioned.  He  was  in 
tellectual,  considerate,  and  always  gracious. 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

Bishop  Thorne,  although  at  present  on  his  sum 
mer  visit  from  his  diocese  in  a  neighboring  State, 
was  a  native  of  Lynstock  and  cousin  of  the  doctor. 
They  had  played  together  as  boys,  and  knew  each 
other  well. 

When  the  last  lingerer  had  departed,  leaving 
these  two  alone,  standing  together  near  the  pulpit, 
the  bishop  congratulated  his  cousin  upon  the  effect 
his  eloquence  had  produced. 

"  That's  a  splendid  sermon,  Will,  and  it  makes 
one  regret  more  than  ever  your  desertion  of  the 
pulpit." 

"  It  was  a  false  position." 

"  So  you  have  said  before,  but  you  are  too  punc 
tilious.  Your  point  of  view  is  from  too  dizzy  an 
altitude.  Give  your  conscience  a  vacation  and  for 
get  the  creed.  Our  duty  is  to  the  greatest  number, 
not  to  ourselves." 

Dr.  Thorne  turned  his  eyes  with  a  sidelong  look 
toward  the  bishop,  and  asked, 

"  So  you  think  it  becoming  in  a  follower  of 
Christ  to  occupy  a  pulpit  whose  creed  he  outwardly 
accepts  and  inwardly  denies  ?  " 

The  bishop  turned  partly  away,  and  studied  the 
heads  of  the  apostles. 

"  Your  case  is  exceptional." 

"  But  my  life,  nevertheless,  would  be  a  living  lie." 
97 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

"  It  would  be  a  most  charitable  lie  and  of  infinite 
value." 

Dr.  Thome  regarded  his  companion  with  a 
friendly  frown. 

"  Since  when  have  you  become  a  follower  of 
Ignatius  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  but  our  endeavor  should  be  for  the 
greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number."  Here  the 
bishop  looked  about  and  lowered  his  voice.  "  If  all 
of  us  who  denied  the  creed  should  desert  the  church, 
where  would  our  followers  be  ?  " 

"  Where  they  ought  to  be, — among  the  followers 
of  a  simpler  faith." 

They  moved  toward  the  door,  and  the  bishop  re 
iterated  his  argument. 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  You  are  the  victim  of  an  ab 
normal  conscience.  Your  arguments  fail  to  justify 
your  course.  Such  eloquence  as  yours  should  not 
be  wasted.  It  was  not  given  you  to  be  buried.  If 
you  take  our  Saviour  as  your  model — and  I  know 
you  do — you  should  remember  that  in  giving  His 
life  to  mankind  He  was  influenced  by  no  details  of 
creed." 

Dr.  Thorne  stopped  and  confronted  his  cousin. 

"  Do  you  think,"  he  answered,  slightly  raising 
his  chin,  and  regarding  the  bishop  with  a  lowering 
of  the  heavy  eyelids  which  failed,  however,  to  cover 


Dr   Thome's    Idea 

a  gleam  of  irony  beneath — "  do  you  think  that  if  otir 
Saviour  were  alive  to-day  He  would  give  His  time 
and  energy  to  a  select  and  fashionable  congregation 
of  high-church  Episcopalians  ?  " 

Thoughtfully  the  bishop  lowered  his  head,  then 
answered, — 

"  No." 

Along  the  village  street  they  walked,  Dr.  Thorne 
with  a  lunging  gait,  his  head  bent  forward  and  the 
heavy  shoulders  swinging  as  if  ploughing  through 
a  crowd.  The  bishop,  dignified,  erect,  immaculate, 
and  evangelical,  avoided  instinctively  all  inequalities 
of  the  path,  and  stubbed  his  toes  against  no  ob 
stacles  in  the  way. 

At  the  gate  before  a  large,  old-fashioned  resi 
dence  they  parted,  Dr.  Thorne  continuing  on  his 
way,  out  into  the  open  country  beyond  the  vil 
lage. 

The  road  took  a  wandering  course  between 
fields  and  pastures,  with  patches  of  wood  at  in 
tervals,  where  the  shade,  on  a  day  like  this,  gave  a 
welcome  refuge.  Heavily  but  rapidly  the  pedes 
trian  trudged  along,  and  the  town  was  soon  a  mile 
behind  him.  To  his  right  were  straggling  woods 
and  rocky  pastures  with  the  Berkshire  hills  be 
yond. 

But  on  his  left  the  fields  and  smoother  pastures 
99 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

sloped  gently  to  a  wooded  valley,  where  the  eye 
could  follow,  along  the  tree-tops,  the  meanderings 
of  a  water-course.  Across  this  valley,  up  the  long 
sweep  of  open  country,  there  came  to-day  a  refresh 
ing  breeze. 

Our  traveller  halted  by  the  way  to  gather  clover 
blossoms;  and  it  was  evident,  by  the  dexterity  with 
which  he  bound  them  by  a  blade  of  grass,  that  his 
huge  fingers  were  no  strangers  to  the  task. 

His  thoughts,  as  he  gave  the  finishing  touches  to 
this  simple  offering,  went  backward  nearly  thirty 
years  to  a  period  in  which  a  woman  was  the  central 
figure  of  his  life, — a  slender  woman,  light-haired 
and  frail,  with  laughing  lips,  who  loved  this  fra 
grance;  and  who,  as  they  walked  together,  would 
stop,  and,  standing  still  with  eyes  half  closed,  in 
hale  the  clover-laden  air  and  repeat  for  the  hun 
dredth  time,  "  How  I  love  it !  " 

And  he,  when  returning  from  a  walk,  always 
presented  her  with  specimens  of  this  plant. 

Their  married  life  was  short,  six  years  or  less; 
and  now,  with  the  clover  to  his  lips,  the  cool  breeze 
against  his  cheeks,  he  lived  again  the  vanished 
years. 

With  a  deep  breath  he  looked  up  at  the  sky,  then 
over  at  the  distant  hills,  and,  turning  back  into  the 
road,  he  renewed  his  march. 

100 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

Farther  on,  where  a  wood  path  joined  the  high 
way,  lay  a  curious  little  graveyard  of  the  type 
familiar  to  New  England.  Raised  above  the  road 
by  a  wall  that  served  as  a  terrace,  it  was  partly  hid 
den  by  a  row  of  hemlocks.  Toward  the  entrance, 
along  the  wood  path,  the  doctor  turned  mechani 
cally,  as  one  familiar  with  the  way.  Ascending 
some  granite  steps,  rough  hewn  and  forced  asunder 
by  a  century  of  frosts,  where  weeds  and  wild-flow 
ers  in  rank  luxuriance  filled  the  gaping  joints,  he 
paused  a  moment  in  the  shadow  of  two  weather- 
beaten  hemlocks  that  stood,  like  forgotten  sentinels, 
on  a  thankless  duty.  He  pushed  his  hat  from  his 
brow,  and  the  soft  breeze  from  the  valley  beat  gently 
against  his  face  as  he  regarded,  with  friendly 
interest,  two  scolding  squirrels  in  the  branches 
above  who  appeared  annoyed  at  this  intru 
sion. 

The  quaint,  uncared-for  little  cemetery  covered 
less  than  an  acre.  Youthful  pines  and  birches 
sprouted  here  and  there  among  the  graves;  birds 
sang  and  fluttered  in  the  sunlight,  perching  upon 
the  mossy  headstones  as  if  no  saddening  thoughts 
held  precedence  in  that  garden.  Toward  the 
centre,  winding  among  the  graves  and  headstones, 
ran  a  narrow  path.  The  feet  that  made  this  path 
were  Dr.  Thome's. 

101 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

Again  he  trod  it  to  its  termination  beside  a  grave, 
not  unlike  the  others,  but  whose  headstone  was  less 
ancient  than  its  neighbors.  Here,  a  broken-hearted 
man,  he  had  laid  his  wife,  more  than  twenty  years 
ago. 

Slowly,  and  with  his  usual  clumsiness,  he  lowered 
his  bulky  form  and  knelt  beside  the  mound.  Two 
yellow  butterflies,  resplendent  in  the  summer  sun, 
reeled  carelessly  away  as  he  removed  a  bunch  of 
withered  clover  from  the  grave  and  replaced  it 
with  the  fresher  one  of  to-day.  With  some  pre 
cision  he  arranged  his  offering,  and  then,  with 
downcast  face  and  dreaming  eyes  recalled  dis 
tinctly  as  if  yesterday — for  these  memories,  from 
frequent  invitation,  came  willingly,  as  familiar 
friends- — the  last  time  he  saw  her  face  and  heard 
her  voice.  He  had  alighted  from  the  buggy  at 
the  little  station  at  Lynstock,  and  as  he  reached  for 
ward  for  his  valise,  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  and 
whispered,  with  tearful  eyes,  but  with  a  smile  half 
jesting,  half  sad,  "  When  you  open  this  bag  to 
night,  I  shall  be  inside." 

And  when,  at  a  distant  city,  he  unfolded  a  certain 
garment  for  the  night,  he  found  in  a  button-hole 
of  the  bosom  a  bunch  of  clover.  As  he  stood 
smiling,  the  welcome  messengers  to  his  lips,  there 
came  a  knock  at  the  door  and  he  received  the  tele- 

102 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

gram  which  told  him  the  hands  that  plucked  the 
flowers  were  forever  still. 

These  scenes,  and  others  similar,  he  had  lived  so 
many  times  that  his  wife,  beside  whose  grave  he 
knelt,  had  ever  remained  not  only  an  unfading 
memory,  but  a  living  influence.  Recollections 
which  once  had  crushed  him  with  an  unbearable, 
regret  had  now  become  a  pleasure, — a  saddening 
pleasure,  perhaps,  but  soothing;  and  a  pleasure  of 
wrhich  he  never  tired. 

From  this  journey  into  the  past  he  was  sud 
denly  recalled  by  a  voice,  sharp  and  imperious, 
close  beside  him. 

"  Throw  up  your  hands !  " 

Startled/and  still  upon  his  knees,  he  turned  par 
tially  around,  and  confronted,  within  a  yard  of  his 
face,  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver.  Behind  this  weapon, 
at  arm's  length,  stood  a  boy  whose  appearance  pre 
sented  so  much  that  was  contradictory  that  the 
kneeling  victim,  in  the  novelty  of  the  situation,  for 
got  his  danger.  The  robber,  not  a  dozen  years  of 
age,  stood  firmly  upon  his  straddling  legs,  with 
obvious  intent  to  convey  a  terrifying  impression  of 
ruthlessness  and  ferocity. 

But  there  was  something  in  his  face,  particularly 
about  the  eyes,  so  uniquely  honest  and  so  out  of 
harmony  with  the  belt  of  cartridges,  the  rakish  hat 

103 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

with  its  upturned  brim,  and  the  pitiless  contraction 
of  the  eyebrows,  that  Dr.  Thorne  forgot  to  raise 
his  arms.  Instead,  he  gazed  calmly  into  the  vir 
tuous  eyes  that  from  behind  the  pistol  as  calmly  met 
his  own. 

"  Throw  up  your  hands ! "  came  again  from  the 
boyish  lips  and  in  a  boyish  voice;  and  Dr.  Thorne, 
with  a  touch  of  alarm,  observed  that  the  revolver 
was  cocked,  with  a  bullet  in  every  chamber.  But 
instead  of  throwing  up  his  hands,  he  climbed  slowly 
to  his  feet,  and,  as  he  did  so,  he  noticed  another  boy 
in  the  background,  off  nearer  the  entrance  to  the 
enclosure.  This  second  boy,  as  their  eyes  met, 
edged  back  toward  the  steps  in  a  manner  that  left 
no  doubt  as  to  the  suddenness  of  his  disappearance 
in  case  of  danger.  As  the  preacher  glanced  down 
again  at  the  more  courageous  desperado  who  stood 
defiantly  before  him,  he  acted  swiftly  upon  a 
strategic  idea  as  it  came  into  his  head.  Looking  off 
toward  the  retreating  comrade,  he  said, — 

"  Your  friend  is  deserting  you." 

As  the  boy  instinctively  turned  his  head  to  verify 
the  evil  tidings,  Dr.  Thorne,  with  one  step  forward, 
knocked  the  pistol  from  his  hand.  The  blow  dis 
charged  it,  and  the  sharp  report  seemed  a  prof 
anation  of  the  silent  acre.  He  heard,  within  a 
foot  of  his  ear,  the  whistle  of  the  bullet.  Before 

104 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

the  boy  could  recover  himself  he  was  seized  by  the 

arm  and  shoulder. 

"  So  it  was  really  loaded,  you  rascal ! "  and  he 
gave  the  figure  in  his  grasp  a  violent  shake.  He 
was  surprised,  in  the  boy's  struggle  to  free  him 
self,  at  the  strength  and  energy  of  his  youthful 
captive.  But  no  struggling  could  avail  in  such  a 
grip,  and  the  would-be  robber  after  one  or  two 
efforts  stood  quiet — but  unresigned. 

"  Don't  you  know  better  than  to  handle  loaded 
weapons  in  that  way?  It's  a  wonder  you  didn't 
kill  me." 

There  was  no  reply. 

"  Do  you  want  to  be  hanged  for  murder  ?  " 

After  a  moment's  reflection,  as  if  the  question 
required  a  cautious  answer,  the  boy  replied,  with 
enough  bravado  to  show  the  enemy  he  was  still  un- 
terrified, — 

"  No,  sir,  not  right  off." 

The  doctor  turned  him  about,  and  looked  down 
into  his  face.  As  he  met  the  cool,  gray,  truthful 
eyes,  he  felt  convinced  that  he  was  the  victim  of  a 
childish  folly. 

Off  in  the  highway,  as  fast  as  his  legs  could 
take  him,  he  noticed  the  reserve  guard  travelling 
feverishly  to  the  westward.  He  could  not  resist  a 
smile. 

105 


Dr   Thome's  Idea 

"  Your  friend  knows  where  he  is  safe,  and  he 
means  to  get  there.  You  would  better  follow  his 
example  if  you  ever  have  the  chance." 

The  prisoner  also  looked  in  that  direction,  then 
muttered  with  a  measureless  contempt :  "  Ho ! 
Davey  always  was  a  coward!  He  oughter  been  a 
girl!" 

The  doctor  for  an  instant  thought  of  resenting 
this  slur  upon  the  other  sex,  but  instead,  he  offered 
terms  to  the  enemy. 

"  If  I  let  you  go  will  you  promise  to  behave 
better,  and  not  play  with  loaded  pistols  in  the 
future?" 

"  Yes,  I  promise." 

"  You  give  me  your  word  of  honor  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

As  he  released  his  grip  and  took  a  backward  step, 
the  boy  sprang  toward  the  pistol,  snatched  it  from 
the  grass,  cocked  it,  and  levelled  it  again  toward  the 
figure  before  him. 

"  Now,  who's  ahead  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  This 
time  you  throw  up  your  hands,  or  I'll  fire  it !  " 

But  the  hands  were  not  thrown  up.  The  massive 
head  drooped  slowly  forward,  and  two  calm,  brown 
eyes  rested  mournfully  upon  the  speaker.  Re 
proachfully  and  without  anger  he  looked  into  the 
triumphant  face. 

1 06 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

"  So  your  promise  goes  for  nothing !  You 
should  have  been  a  sneak  thief  or  a  pick-pocket;  not 
an  open  robber.  I  have  always  understood  that 
famous  robbers  had  some  self-respect,  some  regard 
for  their  word  of  honor." 

Over  the  villain's  face  came  a  flush  of  color. 
Shame  and  indignation  took  the  place  of  triumph, 
and  the  eyes  wavered.  There  was  an  inward 
struggle,  as  easily  read  by  the  man  before  him  as 
from  an  open  book.  Lowering  the  revolver,  he 
turned  it  about,  holding  the  muzzle  toward  himself, 
then  stepped  forward  and  presented  it  to  his  tower 
ing  victor.  In  an  uneven  voice,  and  with  a  strong 
effort  to  repress  the  quivering  of  a  lip,  he  mumbled 
hurriedly, — 

"I'm  not  a  sneak  thief!  Take  it  yourself!  I 
don't  want  it!" 

Dr.  Thorne  took  the  weapon,  carefully  pointed  it 
in  another  direction  as  he  lowered  the  hammer,  then 
returned  it  to  the  owner,  saying, — 

"  As  we  both  are  men  of  honor,  it  doesn't  matter 
who  keeps  the  pistol." 

Five  minutes  later  they  were  sitting  in  the  shade 
of  the  two  hemlocks,  each  upon  one  of  the  low 
granite  blocks  at  the  entrance  of  the  cemetery. 
Here  it  was  cooler,  and  Dr.  Thorne  laid  his  hat  be 
side  him,  and  drew  his  handkerchief  across  his 

107 


Dr   Thome's  Idea 

brow;  for  there  had  been  a  certain  excitement 
in  the  recent  episode,  and  the  heat,  out  there  in 
the  sun,  was  penetrating.  As  the  boy  sat  oppo 
site,  his  feet  just  clearing  the  ground,  the  clery- 
man  suspected,  from  the  soiled  collar  and  wrist 
bands,  the  long  red  stockings  worn  through  at 
the  knees,  and  the  shoes  which  appeared  first  to  have 
received  a  soaking,  then  to  have  travelled  many 
miles  over  a  dusty  road,  that  his  vis-a-vis  had  found 
that  wealth  and  luxury  were  not  infallible  accom 
paniments  to  a  robber's  life. 

"  Do  your  parents  live  in  Lynstock?  " 
"  No,  sir.     I  don't  know  where  that  is." 
"  Why,  this  is  Lynstock.     You  are  in  it  now." 
The  boy  nodded  carelessly,  accepting  the  state 
ment,  but  taking  no  interest  in  the  village  or  in  its 
name. 

"  Where  do  they  live,  your  parents  ?  " 
"  I  don't  know." 

"  You  don't  know  where  your  parents  live  ?  " 
"  No,  sir.     They  both  cleared  out,  and  I  don't 
know  where."     His  eyes   rested  calmly  upon  the 
questioner,  yet  with  a  certain  watchfulness. 
"What  is  your  name?" 

The  youth  hesitated,  but  decided  this  time  to  tell 
the  truth. 

"  Stephen  Wadsworth." 
1 08 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

"  And  your  home  ?  When  did  you  come  from 
home?" 

"  I  came  from  New  York,  me  and  Davey  to 
gether,  but  the  home  was  rented  to  somebody 
else." 

As  he  spoke,  he  broke  off  a  stem  of  milkweed, 
and  appeared  surprised  at  the  white  liquid  within, 
and  at  its  stickiness.  His  friend  noticed  it. 

"  You  have  not  lived  in  the  country  much.'* 

"  No,  sir." 

"Where  did  you  sleep  last  night?" 

"In  the  porch  of  a  house,  off  there;"  and  he 
pointed  over  the  valley  to  the  west  of  the  village. 
"  And  the  night  before  that  we  slept  in  a  swell 
stable.  Climbed  through  the  winder,  and  had  bully 
beds  on  the  carriage  cushions.  We  hooked  a  ride 
on  a  freight  train  to  that  place;  and  if  the  brake- 
man  hadn't  spotted  us,  we'd  have  gone  a  lot 
further." 

"  Your  friend  is  still  going  farther,  and  in  a 
hurry." 

"  Oh,  he's  no  use !  He  went  back  on  me  yester 
day,  and  he  would  again.  I  shan't  go  after  him 
much.  He's  wanted  to  back  out  and  go  home  ever 
since  we  started.  Now  he  can  do  it.  He  ain't  no 
use — he  is  no  use/' 

This  correction  of  faulty  grammar  led  the 
109 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

preacher  to  believe  that  the  stranger  had  quitted  a 
more  refined  and  educated  home  than  was  indi 
cated  by  his  present  calling. 

"  Perhaps  your  father  is  a  professional  man." 

"  I  guess  he  is." 

"  A  clergyman." 

"  Not  much !  "  was  retorted  emphatically,  as  one 
resents  an  injustice.  "  He's  an  all-around  sport." 

"What  does  he  do?" 

"  I  don't  know  exactly.  I  never  saw  him  do 
it." 

The  questioner  inferred  from  the  manner  of  this 
reply  that  it  was  intentionally  ambiguous. 

!<  Tell  me  why  you  boys  selected  Lynstock  for  a 
visit." 

"  Oh,  just  the  same  as  the  other  places, — to  hold 
folks  up,  and  so  forth." 

"Then  you  are  a  professional  robber?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Dr.  Thome's  face  expressed  neither  surprise  nor 
disapproval.  His  glance  wandered  calmly  away 
among  the  gravestones,  as  if  professional  robbers 
were  his  daily  associates,  the  companions  of  his 
choice.  When  he  looked  again  into  the  eyes  which 
by  their  exceeding  goodness  persistently  gave  the  lie 
to  the  noxious  sentiments  of  their  owner,  he  smiled 
pleasantly,  and  said, — 

no 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"When  you  have  had  more  experience  in  this 
particular  field  of  crime,  you  will  select  your  victims 
with  sounder  judgment.  The  idea  of  waylaying  a 
preacher  on  his  way  from  church !  They  never 
have  money.  You  might  as  well  '  hold  up '  one  of 
the  oxen  in  the  pasture." 

"  You've  got  a  watch." 

"  True.  But  you  would  not  rob  a  peaceable,  hard 
working  minister  of  his  only  treasure." 

The  highwayman  for  an  instant  showed  a  slight 
embarrassment,  but,  quickly  recovering  himself,  he 
answered  with  studied  indifference,  as  he  tossed 
a  pebble  down  the  granite  steps: 

"Of  course  I  would!     Business  is  business." 

Dr.  Thorne  was  too  experienced  to  risk  a  moral 
discourse  at  this  stage  of  an  acquaintance.  After 
a  moment's  silence  he  asked : 

"  Have  you  been  to  breakfast  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  back  in  that  other  town." 

"  Was  it  a  good  one  ?  " 

The  traveller  kicked  his  heels  indifferently  against 
the  granite  block,  and  inserted  a  spear  of  grass 
between  his  lips  before  he  answered: 

"  Good  enough." 

"  Do  you  mind  telling  me  what  you  had  ?  " 

"  Some  apples." 

"  Apples !     They  must  have  been  green  ones." 
in 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  Sort  of." 

The  doctor  took  out  his  watch. 

"  My  dinner  is  all  ready  and  waiting-  for  me. 
Won't  you  come  and  share  it?  I  should  like  very 
much  to  have  you." 

As  he  spoke,  he  felt  the  gaze  of  the  robber  fixed 
intently  upon  him  as  if  suspecting  treachery. 

"  I  guess  not.    I  must  be  goinV 

"  Where  are  you  going?  " 

"  Off  there,"  pointing  to  the  east.  "  To  the  wild 
west,  where  the  fun  is ; "  and  he  slid  from  his  seat 
and  stood  up. 

The  clergyman  also  arose  and  put  on  his  hat. 

"  I  will  make  a  bargain  with  you.  If  you  come 
home  with  me  and  spend  the  night,  I  will  have  your 
shirt  washed  and  give  you  a  new  pair  of  stockings." 

The  boy  looked  suspiciously  into  his  face,  then 
lowered  his  eyes  and  bestowed  careful  attention  to 
a  hole  he  was  digging  in  the  turf  with  the  toe  of  his 
boot.  During  the  pause  one  of  the  squirrels  in  the 
branches  above  uttered  a  final  protest,  then  retired 
to  the  inner  apartments  of  his  home. 

"Well,  what  do  you  say?" 

The  traveller  seemed  embarrassed.  With  a  side 
long  look  he  asked, — 

"  Where  do  you  come  in  ?  " 

"  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  doing  my  share  to- 

112 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

ward  establishing  a  pleasant  friendship.  It  seems 
to  me  that  a  solid  friendship  after  so  unpromising 
an  introduction  is  a  thing  to  celebrate." 

The  highwayman  returned  the  smile  with  which 
this  was  spoken,  but  his  doubts  were  not  allayed. 

"  You  will  hold  on  to  me  and  not  let  me  go." 

"  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor  you  shall  leave 
whenever  you  wish.  I  am  telling  you  the  truth. 
I  like  you  and  wish  to  know  you  better.  Of  course, 
as  a  clergyman,  I  cannot  indorse  the  profession  you 
have  chosen,  but  I  like  your  spirit;  and — as  far  as 
I  can  judge — I  like  your  character.  Come.  Let  us 
go  home  and  celebrate ;  "  and  he  held  out  his  hand. 

Stephen  looked  up  for  a  second  into  the  heavy, 
benevolent  face,  then  stepped  forward  and  laid  his 
grimy  hand  upon  the  extended  palm. 

"  All  right." 

Five  big,  fat  fingers  closed  about  it  with  a  hearty 
grasp,  the  grasp  of  that  unwavering  friendship 
that  loves  us  for  our  virtues  and  forgives  our  faults. 


VI 

ACROSS  the  fields,  a  shorter  cut  than  by  the 
highway,    Dr.    Thorne    returned   to   the 
village,  gleaning,  as  he  went,  bits  of  per 
sonal  history  from  his  new  acquaintance;  and  the 
more  he   learned  of  his  antecedents,   the  less  he 
marvelled  at  results. 

As  they  emerged  upon  the  main  avenue  from  a 
neighbor's  yard,  Steve  was  awed  by  the  prevailing 
silence.  To  this  New  Yorker  who  had  rarely  es 
caped  from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  his  native  city, 
the  wide,  empty  street  with  its  overhanging  trees, 
and  the  houses,  cheerful  and  prosperous  but  with 
no  outward  signs  of  human  life,  all  gave  the  im 
pression  of  a  deserted  settlement;  of  something 
mortuary  and  forgotten. 

Stopping  before  a  low  old-fashioned  gate,  painted 
white,  like  the  fence  on  either  side,  Dr  Thorne  held 
it  open  for  his  guest  to  enter.  Stephen  found 
himself  on  a  gravel  walk,  at  the  other  end  of  which, 
some  twenty  yards  away,  stood  a  long,  low  house, 
also  white  but  nearly  covered  with  vines. 

114 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

Along  the  borders  of  this  walk  were  strips  of 
box,  nearly  up  to  his  waist;  dark,  impenetrable  and 
fragrant.  And  behind  these  little  hedges,  in  wild, 
disorderly  profusion,  flashed  a  sea  of  flowers,  of  all 
the  colors  in  the  universe,  now  dazzling  beneath 
the  summer  sun.  They  were  very  tall,  some  higher 
than  his  head.  Hollyhocks  and  roses,  pink  peonies 
and  lark-spur,  sweet  peas,  nasturtiums,  foxglove 
and  poppies,  smiled — or  rather  laughed — all  hud 
dled  together,  an  orgy  of  blinding  color. 

Bees  buzzed,  some  drunk  and  others  sober ;  while 
casual  humming-birds,  in  the  abandonment  of  friv 
olity,  reeled  gleefully  from  flower  to  flower. 

Steve  blinked,  and  instinctively  took  a  long,  deep 
breath  of  an  intoxicant  the  like  of  which  had  never 
figured  in  his  dreams;  for  no  such  odors  could 
have  survived  a  journey  to  the  Wadsworth  flat. 
Rich,  overladen  with  perfumes, — mignonette  in  the 
ascendant, — it  stole  into  his  brain  and  seemed  to  lift 
him  up.  To  be  sure,  he  was  bad,  too  bad  for  honest 
boys  to  play  with,  but  his  imagination  was  young 
and  active,  and  this  flood  that  poured  into  his 
soul,  a  flood  of  gentleness  and  delight, — what  was 
it? 

Could  this  be  fairy-land? 

Every  sense  seemed  tingling  into  a  new  exist 
ence.  With  a  touch  he  could  have  floated  to  the 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

clouds.  He  forgot  his  body  and  his  legs,  his  pistol, 
his  empty  stomach,  and  the  joys  of  crime. 

But  this  transformation  was  only  temporary. 
With  his  host  by  his  side  he  trod  the  gravel  walk 
toward  the  house,  and  when  half-way  there,  from 
among  the  flowers  close  beside  the  path,  arose  the 
head  and  shoulders  of  a  radiant  woman.  Her  hair 
was  golden,  and  the  sunshine  seemed  to  form  a  halo 
round  about  it.  She  wore  a  dress  of  white,  and  in 
her  hands  were  pinks.  Steve  halted  again. 

This  must  be  the  fairy  of  the  garden! 

So  light  and  dainty  was  this  figure,  among  the 
many  colors,  that  had  Stephen  been  a  man  he  would 
have  strode  in  and  plucked  her  with  the  other 
flowers.  To  him  it  was  a  novel  type,  the  delicate, 
sensitive  face  with  the  large  brown  eyes,  at  once 
cheerful  and  sad,  and  the  mouth  ever  ready  to 
smile,  yet  with  signs  of  trouble  about  the  cor 
ners. 

"  Why,  papa !  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
yourself!  You  are  awfully  late  for  dinner!  " 

And  as  she  stepped  out  upon  the  walk  througH 
an  opening  in  the  box,  she  saw  the  boy  and  nodded 
a  smiling  welcome. 

"  This  is  a  guest  I  have  brought  to  visit  you, 
Bessie ;  a  friend  of  mine  who  will  dine  with  us." 

She  said  pleasant  things  with  a  pleasant  smile, 
116 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

and  made  him  feel  at  home;  and  as  she  adjusted  a 
pink  in  the  buttonhole  of  his  jacket,  Stephen  ex 
perienced  yet  another  sensation,  more  novel  and 
overpowering  than  the  other. 

He  fell  in  love. 

It  was  sudden,  but  no  passion  was  ever  more 
complete;  that  is,  of  course,  no  love  of  boy  for 
a  woman  twice  his  age.  He  was  eleven  and  she  was 
twenty-six,  but  to  every  boy  this  is  liable  to  occur; 
and  with  Stephen  it  was  an  overwhelming  sensa 
tion.  He  drank  her  in  with  bashful  eyes.  Her 
gentle  face  and  voice  and  manner  were  to  him  a 
revelation.  And  he  saw,  without  defining  it,  an 
expression  about  her  eyes  and  mouth  that  suggested 
sorrow,  with  a  brave  resolve  to  appear  more  cheer 
ful  than  she  felt. 

The  only  woman  with  whom  Stephen  thus  far 
had  been  on  terms  of  intimacy  was  his  mother,  and 
between  the  two  there  was  little  resemblance.  This 
lady's  hair  was  a  quieter  yellow;  not  selected  by 
herself,  but  fully  as  effective:  there  was  no  paint 
upon  her  cheeks,  nor  artificial  emphasis  about  the 
eyes.  Her  raiment  also  was  less  conspicuous.  His 
mother,  taller  and  more  majestic,  could  easily  have 
vanquished  this  person  in  a  struggle,  but  by  this  he 
did  not  allow  himself  to  be  prejudiced.  He  real 
ized,  instinctively,  that  the  virtues  of  his  inamorata 

117 


Dr  Thome's    Idea 

were  virtues  of  another  nature,  and  to  be  judged 
from  a  different  standpoint. 

She  led  him  upstairs  to  an  orderly  chamber,— 
unlike  his  own, — supervised  the  washing  of  his  face 
and  hands,  and  scolded  him  with  an  affectionate 
smile  for  having  his  hair  too  short  to  brush.  It 
was  a  fighting  cut,  and  showed  every  contour  of  his 
head.  And  during  all  he  was  dumb,  like  a  fool, 
giving  the  briefest  answers  to  her  friendly  ques 
tions.  He  felt  a  pleasant  thrill  whenever  her  fingers 
touched  him,  and  yearned  for  an  opportunity  to 
show  her  what  he  really  was, — to  rescue  her  from 
some  frightful  danger.  If  a  hundred  redskins  would 
only  pounce  into  the  room  to  scalp  and  kill  her,  that 
he,  with  her  trembling  form  in  his  arms,  might  lay 
them  low  in  quick  succession,  he  would  have  been 
supremely  happy.  To  win  her  admiration  was  his 
chief  desire.  But  at  present  he  saw  no  prospect  of 
achieving  it.  These  times  of  peace,  for  men  of 
action,  were  far  from  satisfying. 

This  house  of  Dr.  Thome's  was  built  in  the  pre 
ceding  century  by  an  ancestor  of  Revolutionary 
fame.  The  dining-room,  long  and  narrow,  with 
all  its  windows  at  the  end,  had,  like  the  rest  of  the 
house,  a  low  ceiling.  When  Stephen  entered,  under 
Bessie's  guidance,  the  outer  blinds  were  closed,  and 
the  light  at  first  seemed  dim  and  insufficient;  but 

118 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

he  saw  Dr.  Thorne  at  one  end  of  the  table,  back  to 
the  windows.  At  the  other  end  sat  an  elderly  wo 
man,  stout  and  in  a  light  dress.  She  took  his  hand 
and  held  it  in  her  own  for  a  moment,  while  she 
said,  in  a  low  but  decided  voice,  rapidly  and  with  a 
pleasant  smile, — 

"  So  you  are  Mr.  Wadsworth.  Well,  you  are  a 
good  boy;  I  can  see  that.  And  you  look  as  if  the 
wind  wouldn't  blow  you  over.  Gracious !  what 
truthful  eyes !  Why,  it's  better  than  going  to  Sun 
day-school  just  to  look  into  them.  Sit  down  there, 
in  that  place — next  to  Dr.  Thorne,  and  eat  a  good 
dinner." 

Stephen  looked  into  her  own  eyes  as  she  spoke, 
and  saw  they  were  small,  black,  and  very  sharp. 
The  flesh  at  the  corners  was  drawn  up  in  little 
wrinkles  in  such  a  manner  as  to  render  it  uncertain 
whether  she  \vas  simply  smiling  or  perusing  your 
own  thoughts.  Her  face  seemed  pale,  but  not  with 
the  pallor  of  disease,  for  Aunt  Lorinda,  now  in  her 
seventy-sixth  year,  had  always  enjoyed  the  very 
best  of  health,  and  thus  far  there  were  no  indications 
of  a  change.  She  appeared  about  fifty.  As  to  bod 
ily  vigor  and  mental  energy,  she  was  still  in  her 
youth. 

Stephen  sat  in  the  chair  indicated,  and,  being 
bountifully  helped  by  his  host,  proceeded  to  manifest 

119 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

his  appreciation  of  the  food  with  the  celerity  and 
disregard  of  consequences  peculiar  to  shipwrecked 
mariners  and  to  growing  boys.  There  was  con 
versation  while  he  ate;  but  he  took  little  interest, 
only  speaking  when  questioned.  And  the  answers 
were  brief. 

While  waiting  for  the  dessert,  he  noticed  a  vacant 
chair  opposite  his  own,  and  he  wondered  who  was 
to  sit  in  it.  He  also  took  long  breaths  of  the  per 
fumes  wafted  through  the  house  from  the  old  gar 
den  in  front. 

Glad  he  was  that  he  had  come.  He  looked  fur 
tively  once  or  twice  at  the  heavenly  being  beside 
him,  and  his  love  grew  stronger  with  each  glance. 
Perhaps  these  people  would  let  him  remain  here 
always.  He  would  do  heroic  things,  and  she  would 
be  sure  to  like  him! 

Aunt  Lorinda  he  also  watched,  and  with  increas 
ing  interest.  Her  manner  was  that  of  a  very  young 
person, — not  affected,  but  wide-awake  and  amusing. 
In  conversation  she  seemed  courageous  and  em 
phatic,  and  there  was  never  a  doubt  of  her  meaning. 
Her  remarks  must  have  been  funny,  for  both  Dr. 
Thorne  and  Bessie  often  laughed  at  what  she  said. 
Although  a  little  afraid  of  her  at  first,  he  soon  began 
to  like  her. 

After  helping  to  the  dessert — the  richest  and  most 
1 20 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

satisfying  blueberry-pudding  the  guest  had  ever 
tasted — she  leaned  back  and  said, — 

"  That  was  a  splendid  sermon  this  morning, 
William.  It  made  an  impression,  but  of  course 
there  are  many  who  can't  believe  it." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Dr.  Thorne.  "  I  expect  that. 
It  is  a  hard  thing  to  believe — without  preparation." 

"  And  while  I  can't  quite  believe  it  myself,"  said 
Aunt  Lorinda,  "  it  irritates  me  to  have  others  doubt 
it.  This  morning  in  the  vestibule,  coming  out, 
Peter  Upham  was  just  behind  me,  and — " 

"Peter  Upham?"  inquired  Bessie,  "that  horrid 
Peter  Upham, — Jennie's  father,  with  the  funny 
eyes?" 

"  Yes,  and  the  eyes  are  still  his.  Two  little 
oysters,  each  with  a  green  pea  in  the  middle.  And 
a  mouth  like  a  bullfrog's — only  bigger  and  looser. 
His  voice,  when  he  lowers  it,  is  like  a  storm  at  sea. 
You  know  his  kind  of  piety, — that  damns  all  who 
differ.  I  am  sure  he  patronizes  the  Almighty  when 
they  are  alone  together.  Well,  this  morning,  com 
ing  out,  he  was  just  behind  me.  I  heard  him  say  in 
his  lowest  voice, — a  voice  that  shook  the  windows 
and  bent  the  elms  beyond  the  Common :  '  A  most 
eloquent  sermon,  but  although  of  a  religious  nature 
myself,  I  am  constrained  to  say  that  somebody  has 
been  stuffing  Dr.  Thorne/  Well,  at  first  I  thought 

121 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

of  jamming  my  parasol  into  his  mouth  and  opening 
it,  but  it's  a  new  parasol.  He  saw  me  just  as  he 
finished,  and  began  a  rigmarole  of  pompous  ex 
planations." 

Dr.  Thorne  looked  troubled  and  shook  his  head. 

"  Peter  is  sensitive,  and  I  hope  you  didn't  make  it 
unpleasant  for  him." 

Aunt  Lorinda,  with  more  wrinkles  about  her 
eyes,  replied, — 

"  No,  not  particularly.  I  only  told  him  he  was 
not  the  first  Peter  who  had  gone  back  on  the  Lord." 

Dr.  Thorne  frowned  sadly  as  upon  a  wayward 
child  with  whom  argument  is  wasted. 

A  few  moments  later  a  step  was  heard  in  the  hall, 
and  Bessie  rose  from  the  table,  saying : 

"  There's  Alfred." 

Then  Stephen  heard  her  speaking  to  the  new 
comer  as  together  they  ascended  the  stairs. 

"  Good !  "  said  Aunt  Lorinda.  "  Now,  dear  little 
Alfred  can  have  his  boots  taken  off,  and  be  dressed 
for  dinner." 

"  Is  Alfred  a  little  boy?  "  Steve  inquired. 

"  Yes,  and  always  will  be ;  "  but  Dr.  Thorne  gave 
her  a  warning  look.  "  No,  that  was  partly  in  joke. 
Alfred  is  Captain  Chauncey,  Mrs.  Chauncey's  hus 
band." 

"Mrs.  Chauncey?" 

122 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"  Yes,  she  just  left.    We  call  her  Bessie." 

So  Bessie  was  married!  Steve  shrunk  beneath 
the  blow.  For  a  moment  his  appetite  forsook  him. 
But  then,  to  lovers  under  twelve,  such  announce 
ments  are  less  destructive  than  at  maturer  periods. 
To  be  near  her  for  the  present,  with  liberty  to  adore, 
was  sufficient  to  feed  the  fires  of  his  unexacting 
love.  Although  the  shock  was  cruel,  he  quickly 
recovered,  and  with  no  abatement  of  devotion. 

"Is  Captain  Chauncey  a  real  soldier?"  he 
inquired. 

"  Bless  you,  no !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Lorinda.  "  He 
gave  that  up  when  he  was  married,  and  became  a 
professional  husband.  He  superintends  his  wife. 
He's  a  successful  invalid  now.  You  don't  know 
what  it  is  to  be  that  kind  of  an  invalid?  " 

Steve  shook  his  head.  She  screwed  up  her  eyes 
and  looked  sharply  at  him  from  the  corners. 

"  I  should  say  that  he  had  the  same  line  of  dis 
eases  that  you  have." 

"  But  I  am  never  sick !  " 

"That's  his  trouble,  and  it  unfits  him  for 
work." 

Steve  did  not  quite  understand;  but  it  mattered 
little,  as  Aunt  Lorinda  was  conversing  for  her  own 
delectation.  Dr.  Thome  threw  a  warning  glance 
which  she  carefully  avoided. 

123 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  Think  how  awful  it  is  for  an  able-bodied  man  in 
the  prime  of  life  to  realize  that  consumption,  fits, 
fatigue,  old  age,  or  some  other  fatal  disease  may 
strike  him  at  any  moment!  And  yet  he  fights 
bravely  on.  He  is  a  fisherman.  He  has  been  fishing 
this  morning, — Sunday." 

"  Does  he  go  on  the  ocean?  "  asked  Steve. 

"  Oh,  dear  no !  He  is  not  that  foolish  sort  of  a 
fisherman.  No  wet  feet  and  empty  stomachs  for 
him !  He  sits  on  the  bank  and  bobs  a  line.  But  he 
never  catches  anything.  That  would  be  cruel, 
wouldn't  it? — and  laborious." 

"Be  careful,  Aunt  Lorinda;"  and  Dr.  Thorne 
turned  the  lady's  conversation  into  other  fields. 

Although  the  finer  shades  of  Aunt  Lorinda's  con 
tempt  were  lost  upon  Stephen,  he  guessed  that  she 
had  a  poor  opinion  of  Bessie's  husband.  It  was 
some  hours  later  that  he  first  met  this  gentleman. 

Coming  down  to  supper,  he  found  Dr.  Thorne, 
Aunt  Lorinda,  and  Bessie  beneath  the  vine-covered 
porch.  Upon  the  seat  beside  Bessie,  his  legs  crossed 
and  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  sat  the  successful 
invalid;  and  Steve  was  pleased  with  his  appearance. 
Captain  Chauncey's  age  was  mysterious,  but  he  gave 
the  impression — as  was  his  intent — of  a  man  of 
thirty-five  or  forty.  But  Aunt  Lorinda  and  Dr. 
Thorne  knew  him  to  be  twenty-four  years  older  than 

124 


Dr  Thome's  idea 

his  wife,  and  his  wife  was  twenty-six.  His  youthful 
mustache,  from  which  the  few  gray  haw's  had  been 
carefully  extracted,  turned  pleasantly  upwards  at  the 
extremities.  In  his  face  were  no  lines  of  care.  The 
nose,  chin,  and  forehead  made  an  excellent  profile. 
His  eyeglasses  seemed  of  more  importance  than  the 
eyes  behind,  which  were  neither  large,  small,  light, 
dark,  attractive,  nor  repellent.  These  glasses  ne 
cessitated  a  slight  but  perpetual  elevation  of  the 
chin  when  regarding  others. 

Upon  closer  acquaintance  it  was  usually  dis 
covered  that  Captain  Chauncey's  mouth  was  pecu 
liar.  The  under  lip  projected  slightly,  with  no 
curve  beneath;  that  is,  his  profile  from  mouth  to 
chin  was  a  straight,  uncompromising  line.  The 
mouth,  as  a  whole,  while  suggesting  certain  uncom 
fortable  varieties  of  decision,  was  less  disquieting 
in  repose  than  when  its  owner  smiled.  For  when 
Captain  Chauncey  smiled,  and  with  enjoyment,  it 
was  either  from  triumph  or  from  contempt.  The 
mouth  seemed  to  open  at  the  corners  on  these  occa 
sions,  yet  with  no  display  of  hilarity. 

But  he  had  a  good  figure,  was  always  well 
dressed,  and,  when  necessary,  polite  and  even  enter 
taining. 

"  Alfred,  this  is  Mr.  Stephen  Wadsworth,"  said 
Bessie.  "  He  has  come  to  make  us  a  visit." 

125 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

With  mock  ceremoniousness  Captain  Chauncey 
shook  his  hand. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Wadsworth. 
You  are  from  New  York,  I  believe  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Are  you  a  student  of  phrenology,  Mr.  Wads- 
worth?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  That's  lucky,  for  if  you  were,  the  contour  of 
your  own  skull  might  cause  you  some  uneasiness.'* 

"Why,  Alfred,"  said  Bessie,  "what  do  you 
mean?  Stephen  has  quite  a  handsome  head." 

"Yes,  very  likely,"  replied  Captain  Chauncey, 
passing  his  hand  over  Stephen's  close-cropped  hair, 
"  but  it  depends  altogether  on  the  point  of  view. 
Gladiatorially  it  is  a  perfect  head.  Phrenologically, 
a  man  with  a  head  like  that  is  either  a  thief  or  a 
murderer.  Just  run  your  eye  over  the  portraits  of 
distinguished  criminals  and  you  will  find  they  are 
endowed  with  similar  craniums." 

He  patted  Stephen  on  the  shoulder,  as  he  said  in 
what  was  intended  for  a  playful  manner, — 

"  You  don't  mind  my  uttering  these  harmless 
prophecies,  Stephen  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  I  don't  mind." 

Dr.  Thome,  remembering  his  own  narrow  escape 
in  the  cemetery,  looked  sharply  at  the  boy;  but  he 

126 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

saw  that  Captain  Chauncey's  remarks  were  taken 
simply  as  a  joke. 

"  You  shouldn't  talk  that  way,  even  in  fun,"  said 
Bessie. 

"  Well/*  said  her  husband,  sinking  back  into  his 
former  position,  "  we  will  play  it's  a  joke.5' 

The  person  whose  good  opinion  was  more  prec 
ious  than  all  others  upon  earth  was,  of  course,  the 
woman  he  loved ;  and  when  Stephen  found  her  eyes 
fixed  amiably  upon  him,  he  became  indifferent  to 
all  extraneous  comment. 

"  You  must  certainly  take  a  thorough  course  in 
phrenology,"  said  Aunt  Lorinda.  "  Don't  neglect 
a  faculty  that  enables  you  not  only  to  decide  offhand 
on  the  character  of  every  one  you  meet,  but  to  fore 
tell  their  future.  Experience  is  nothing  to  it." 

Captain  Chauncey  ignored  this  remark.  Five 
years  ago,  on  his  last  visit  to  America,  he  had 
ventured,  in  the  presence  of  others,  a  few  sarcastic 
remarks  with  intent  to  ridicule  Aunt  Lorinda.  At 
that  period  he  knew  her  but  slightly,  and  had  hoped 
by  one  crushing,  almost  insulting  speech,  reflecting 
upon  her  age,  her  dependent  position,  and  her  want 
of  tact,  to  silence  her  forever,  at  least  as  regarded 
himself.  But  Aunt  Lorinda  in  her  sweetest  manner 
had  retorted  with  a  calmness  and  skill  that  had 
stretched  her  adversary  upon  the  field  of  battle.  In 

127 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

her  response,  courteously  worded,  she  had  informed 
him — and  the  others  present — that  a  scheming, 
impecunious,  middle-aged  man,  who  married  an 
inexperienced  girl  for  her  money  and  wrecked  her 
happiness  by  his  own  brutality  and  selfishness,  was 
not  entitled  to  the  respect  of  decent  people. 

Never  since  that  day  had  he  crossed  swords  with 
Aunt  Lorinda.  And  that  interview  had  been,  with 
him,  a  sufficient  excuse  for  depriving  Bessie  of  all 
intercourse  with  her  family.  He  preferred  Vienna 
to  New  York,  and  this  present  trip  to  Lynstock  was 
the  first  time  in  five  years  that  he  had  allowed  his 
wife  to  revisit  her  home.  Now,  a  man  of  leisure, 
having  resigned  from  the  army  soon  after  his  marri 
age,  he  devoted  his  intellect  and  energy  to  the 
nursing  of  a  perfect  constitution.  And  for  this 
career  the  earth  could  not  have  furnished  a  more 
useful  consort  than  Bessie  Thorne.  Affectionate, 
self-sacrificing,  and  abnormally  conscientious,  she 
became  a  willing  slave.  Her  sense  of  duty  and 
allegiance  to  the  man  she  had  married  prevented  the 
admission,  even  to  herself,  that  her  idol  was  of  the 
poorest  clay,  and  that  all  dreams  of  happiness  were 
forever  gone.  Her  husband,  not  being  a  fool,  was 
aware  that  Dr.  Thorne  despised  him.  Of  Aunt 
Lorinda's  contempt  there  had  never  been  conceal 
ment. 

128 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

That  his  wife,  who  knew  him  best  of  all,  could, 
with  her  lofty  ideals,  respect  his  character,  was  too 
incredible  even  for  Captain  Chauncey's  vanity;  and 
this  knowledge  in  itself  was  an  irritation.  Of  this 
irritation,  his  wife,  being  ever  present,  was  the  most 
convenient  victim.  Although  she  made  no  con 
fession  of  matrimonial  sorrows,  these  two  friends 
knew  better  than  herself  why  she  had  grown  ten 
years  older  in  half  that  number  of  years,  and  why 
the  gayety  and  love  of  fun  which  seemed  a  part  of 
her  nature  had  all  departed. 


129 


VII 

AS  the  days  went  by,  it  was  discovered  with 
surprise  and  pain  that  certain  traits  of 
character  possessed  by  the  new  arrival 
were  at  variance  with  the  moral  standard  of  the 
Thornes.  Truth  and  Stephen,  it  appeared,  took 
little  pleasure  in  each  other's  company.  He  looked 
down  upon  this  clear-eyed  goddess  as  a  feeble 
substitute  for  intelligence.  Of  course  there  are 
times  when  Truth  is  harmless  and  the  easiest  thing, 
and  at  these  times  she  and  Stephen  worked  together ; 
but  in  matters  of  business  her  co-operation  was 
unsought. 

And  what  brought  despair  to  the  members  of 
this  honest  household  was  the  freedom  from  shame 
with  which  Stephen,  when  detected  in  a  lie,  looked 
them  pleasantly  in  the  eyes,  as  if  falsehood  were  the 
natural  course ;  he  being  convinced,  all  protestations 
to  the  contrary,  that  theirs  would  be  a  similar  course 
under  similar  conditions.  And  a  yet  sadder  blow 
for  these  upright  people,  whose  strength  and  purity 
of  character  were  models  for  all  who  knew  them, 

130 


Dr   Thome's    Idea 

was  the  gradual  realization  that  this  member  of  their 
household  held  independent  views  upon  the  rights 
of  ownership.  In  acquiring  the  property  of  others 
without  their  knowledge  he  displayed  a  facility 
and  courage  that  both  dazzled  and  appalled  his 
friends.  And  this  accomplishment,  instead  of  in 
juring  his  reputation  with  certain  of  his  pals, 
proved  a  source  of  popularity,  as  all  bananas,  dates, 
or  other  luxuries  obtained  from  the  store  without 
the  formality  of  payment  he  always  shared  freely 
with  his  comrades.  If  rebuked  at  home,  it  became 
obvious,  from  his  amiable  but  shameless  arguments, 
that,  although  outwardly  convinced,  he  recog 
nized  no  sin  in  appropriating  what  others  did  not 
require. 

These  propensities,  rare  in  Lynstock,  and  prac 
tically  unknown  beneath  the  roof -tree  of  the 
Thornes,  created  hostile  comment  in  the  village 
and  embarrassment  among  his  friends.  But  Dr. 
Thorne,  when  reformatory  institutions  were  sug 
gested  by  the  neighbors,  still  clung  to  Stephen.  He 
always  insisted  upon  a  further  trial.  In  fact  per 
sonal  friends  of  the  offender,  as  a  rule,  were  inclined 
to  leniency.  This  was  easily  explained  by  the 
possession  on  Stephen's  part  of  certain  qualities 
that  even  his  victims  could  not  help  respecting.  His 
fidelity  to  his  friends,  his  manliness,  his  self-reliance, 


Dr   Thome's  Idea 

and  extraordinary  courage;  his  cheerfulness,  his 
love  of  fair  play  and  unhesitating  sacrifice  of  self 
when  occasion  required,  had  won  him  adherents 
who  remained  wilfully  blind  to  his  lack  of  truth 
and  to  his  contempt  for  certain  brands  of  honor. 
To  honor  of  a  special  kind,  however,  he  was  al 
ways  true.  If  he  gave  his  word  when  the  breaking 
of  it  might  compromise  a  friend,  he  invariably 
fulfilled  his  promise  at  whatever  cost. 

Another  characteristic  that  brought  annoyance 
and  mortification  to  the  household,  and  especially 
to  the  peace-loving  Bessie,  was  this  boy's  pugnacity. 
Hardly  a  day  went  by,  during  the  first  fortnight  of 
his  visit,  in  which  his  face  presented  its  normal 
coloring.  Either  an  eye  was  blackened,  a  lip  swollen, 
or  there  were  other  disfigurations.  His  knuckles, 
as  a  rule,  were  "  skinned."  For  it  appeared  neces 
sary,  at  least  to  Stephen,  that  decisions  should  be 
reached  at  once  as  to  whether  he  could  "  lick  "  the 
other  boys,  or  vice  versa.  This,  to  his  shame  be  it 
recorded,  was  owing  less  to  curiosity  on  his  part 
than  to  a  desire  for  displaying  a  certain  physical 
superiority.  And  while  this  superiority  led  to 
needless  encounters  of  his  own  seeking,  it  must  also 
be  recorded,  to  his  credit,  that  he  never  shrunk  from 
confronting  other  warriors  of  whatever  size.  These 
bigger  pugilists,  however,  found  little  satisfaction  in 

132 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

meeting  an  enemy  who  not  only  enjoyed  the  combat, 
but  who  slept  upon  the  field  of  battle.  Steve  never 
acknowledged  defeat.  He  was  always  ready  to 
begin  again.  The  result  was  that,  after  a  few  san 
guinary  encounters  with  the  fighting  boys  of  the 
village,  he  was  awarded  the  championship  for  the 
sake  of  peace :  and  hostilities  ended. 

While  achieving  this  glory,  he  proved  a  most  dis 
tressing  element  among  the  peaceable,  order-loving 
Thornes.  Almost  everything  he  did  was  a  surprise. 
Of  this  he  had  no  suspicion,  believing  himself, 
without  giving  the  matter  any  thought,  to  be  the 
average  boy.  But  to  Bessie  and  Aunt  Lorinda  he 
was  a  revelation.  That  any  single  human  being 
should  comprise  so  many  conflicting  traits,  so  many 
that  were  alarming, — even  criminal, — and  yet  dis 
play  upon  occasion  qualities  that  bordered  on  the 
heroic,  was  even  more  than  a  revelation.  It  was 
a  shock.  And  it  broadened  their  points  of  view 
with  a  suddenness  that  destroyed  their  faith  in  all 
previous  theories  of  human  nature. 

One  rainy  afternoon  during  a  children's  party  at 
a  neighbor's  house  Aunt  Lorinda  discovered,  in  the 
ever  surprising  Stephen,  a  somewhat  unexpected 
trait.  One  of  the  youthful  guests,  an  awkward, 
plainly  dressed  girl,  Hannah  Snell  by  name,  a  victim 
of  the  ostracism  that  children — like  their  elders — 

133 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

often  inflict  upon  the  undeserving,  was  ostenta 
tiously  ignored.  Aunt  Lorinda  saw  Stephen  ap 
proach  this  isolated  being,  escort  her  into  the  game 
of  which  he  was  one  of  the  leaders,  and  exert  him 
self  in  a  boyish  way  to  mitigate  the  curse.  More 
over,  when  that  particular  game  was  finished  and  the 
girl  once  more  ignored,  he  again  approached  the 
derelict  and  sat  beside  her.  And  Aunt  Lorinda  was 
amused  to  see  Stephen  induce  another  boy — by  what 
art  or  coercion  she  could  only  guess — also  attach 
himself. 

Walking  home  together  Aunt  Lorinda  asked 
Stephen  how  he  enjoyed  the  party. 

"  Oh,  first  rate !  But  I  don't  know  as  girls  help 
much.  I  like  boys  better." 

"  I  was  glad  to  see  you  so  kind  to  Hannah  Snell. 
She  is  a  nice  girl,  isn't  she?  " 

"  No." 

Aunt  Lorinda  looked  down  in  surprise. 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  seemed  to  like  her.  You 
were  certainly  very  polite,  and  I  was  glad  to  see 
it." 

"  Oh,  I  did  that  just  for — just  because  the  others 
didn't  treat  her  right.  Twasn't  the  square  thing. 
It  made  me  kind  of  mad  and  I  said  to  myself,  "  I'll 
pretend  she's  my  best  girl  and  I'll  lick  every  feller 
that  lets  her  alone." 

134 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"Oh,  not  that!" 

"  Yes,  siree !  But  I  found  I'd  have  to  lick  all  the 
boys  there  and  I  couldn't  do  that.  That  is,  not  all 
at  once." 

Aunt  Lorinda  smiled.  Looking  down  upon  the 
stalwart  champion  at  her  side  she  patted  his 
shoulder. 

"  Well,  Stephen,  the  motive  was  good ;  and  very 
much  to  your  credit." 

An  hour  later,  after  narrating  the  incident  to  Dr. 
Thorne,  she  added,  "  The  only  trouble  with  Stephen 
is  that  he  doesn't  fit  his  epoch.  As  a  medieval 
baron,  a  Viking,  or  an  early  conqueror  he  would 
have  been  a  shining  light  and  made  a  name  in  his 
tory.  And  do  you  know,  William — don't  whisper 
it  outside — but  I  am  afraid  I  prefer  a  bad  boy  like 
Stephen  to  some  very  superior  men  we  know." 

"  But,  Aunt  Lorinda,  I  don't  admit  that  Stephen 
is  bad.  He  acts  according  to  his  conscience." 

"  His  conscience,"  said  Aunt  Lorinda,  "  is  the 
conscience  of  a  Corsair.  Perhaps  that  is  why  other 
boys,  in  comparison,  seem  too  tame  and  civilized." 

The  acceptance  in  their  midst  of  such  a  dog  as 
Cato  proved  the  liberalizing  tendencies  of  Stephen's 
influence.  Cato's  introduction  took  place  one  after 
noon  as  Aunt  Lorinda  with  Dr.  Thorne  and  the 
bishop  were  strolling  along  the  path  through  the 

135 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

old-fashioned  garden,  conversing  with  solemn  faces 
upon  a  family  matter. 

They  all  looked  up  as  the  little  gate  swung  to, 
and  saw  Stephen,  his  face  illumined  with  pride  and 
joy,  running  toward  them  with  an  animal  in  tow. 
Halting  before  the  trio,  he  exclaimed, — 

"  Look  at  him !     He's  mine !  " 

And  he  pointed  triumphantly  to  the  quadruped  by 
his  side. 

This  creature  was  a  bulldog,  brindled,  wide- 
chested,  bow-legged,  with  a  projecting  jaw  and 
visible  teeth.  In  the  absurdly  short  space  between 
his  nose  and  his  dissipated,  bloodshot  eyes  were 
cynical  creases,  as  if  a  careless  or  a  disappointed 
Creator  had  jammed  his  nose  into  his  face.  This 
nose  and  the  stumps  of  his  close-cut  ears  were  an 
unpleasant  pink.  The  same  color  obtained  also 
about  his  eyes.  He  looked  immoral,  pugnacious, 
and  tough.  He  seemed  a  dog  who  might  prefer  gin 
to  water,  and  who  might  swear  and  chew  tobacco; 
who  if  he  smoked  would  hold  the  cigar  in  a  corner 
of  his  mouth,  and  never  remove  it.  His  tongue 
hung  out  a  little  between  his  teeth,  and  when  he 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  a  person  he  gave  the  impression 
as  if  about  to  spring  and  fasten  onto  human  flesh 
until  Death,  and  Death  alone,  should  part  his  jaws. 

Aunt  Lorinda  took  a  backward  step,  rather  be- 

136 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

hind  the  bishop;  and  the  bishop,  had  not  pride 
restrained  him,  would  have  placed  himself  in  turn 
behind  Aunt  Lorinda.  But  he  stood  his  ground, 
and  encountered  without  flinching  the  upward  gaze 
of  the  brindled  brute,  who  looked  him  calmly  and 
somewhat  warningly  in  the  eyes  with  an  expression 
that  made  it  clear  indeed  that  he  had  no  fear  of 
bishops. 

"  Take  him  away !  Take  him  away !  "  exclaimed 
Aunt  Lorinda.  "  Take  that  horrid  thing  out  of  this 
yard,  Stephen,  and  never  bring  him  here  again !  " 

The  joy  departed  from  Stephen's  face.  In  a  tone 
of  the  keenest  disappointment  he  exclaimed, — 

"  Why,  he's  a  splendid  dog !  He  can  lick  any 
thing  in  town." 

"Where  did  you  get  him,  Stephen?"  asked  Dr. 
Thorne. 

"  From  Barney  Case." 

"Did  you  buy  him?" 

"  No,  sir ;  he  gave  him  to  me." 

"  That  is  unusual.  Barney  is  not  in  the  habit  of 
giving  away  his  dogs.  Are  you  sure  he  gave  him 
to  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  it  will  be  no  loss  to  you  if  you  take  him 
back." 

A  swift  glance  from  Steve  expressed  more  to 
137 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

Dr.  Thorne  than  to  the  others,  and  the  boy  lowered 
his  eyes. 

"  Heavens !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Lorinda.  "  Think 
of  living  with  such  a  thing!  Why,  I  should  feel 
safer  with  a  Bengal  tiger." 

"He  won't  bite,"  said  Steve.  "Look!"  and 
stooping  down  he  pried  open  the  shapeless  mouth 
and  inserted  a  finger.  During  this  performance  the 
animal  turned  his  large  brown  eyes  in  gentle  inquiry 
to  Stephen's  face.  These  eyes,  upon  a  calmer  ex 
amination,  seemed  honest  and  even  tender;  out  of 
harmony,  in  fact,  with  the  reckless  pugnacity  of  his 
general  appearance. 

Dr.  Thorne,  better  versed  in  dogs  than  his  com 
panions,  turned  to  Aunt  Lorinda  and  said, — 

"  He  probably  is  not  so  bad  as  he  looks." 

"To  be  that  bad,"  said  the  bishop,  "would  be 
impossible." 

"  What  is  his  name,  Stephen  ?  " 

"  Cato." 

"  Cato?  There  seems  a  want  of  fitness."  Then, 
turning  to  the  bishop  with  a  serious  face,  he  in 
quired, — 

"  John,  do  you  remember  Cato  as  that  kind  of 
man, — a  bow-legged,  Bowery  tough,  with  a  chip  on 
his  shoulder?" 

The  bishop  smiled. 

138 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"  No,  I  do  not ;  but  there  may  be  more  fitness 
than  we  think.  Those  later  Romans  were  a  danger 
ous  lot." 

However,  it  ended  by  Aunt  Lorinda  being  per 
suaded  to  give  Cato  a  chance,  and  that  chance  was 
all  he  needed.  Both  she  and  Bessie,  when  once 
accustomed  to  his  threatening  appearance,  found 
him  not  only  safe,  but  faithful,  affectionate,  and 
long-suffering.  They  always  maintained,  however, 
that  a  dog  of  Cato's  aspect  rendered  outward 
respectability  impossible. 

"  Strangers  who  see  him  at  the  door,"  said  Aunt 
Lorinda,  "  will  be  sure  there's  a  bar-room  in  the 
house." 

The  following  afternoon  Dr.  Thorne  called  Steve 
into  the  library.  He  told  him,  as  the  boy  stood 
leaning  against  his  knee,  a  hand  in  one  of  his  own, 
that  he  had  learned  from  Barney  Case  that  seven 
dollars  had  been  received  for  Cato. 

"  Now,  Steve,  I  want  you  to  tell  me,  truthfully, 
where  you  got  that  money." 

Steve  hesitated.  Then  looking  his  questioner 
frankly  in  the  face,  his  own  eyes  radiant  with 
truth, — 

"  I  found  it." 

"Where  did  you  find  it?" 

Again  there  was  hesitation. 
139 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"  I  forget." 

Dr.  Thorne  with  his  other  hand  patted  him  gently 
on  the  shoulder. 

"  No,  no ;  be  honest,  Stephen.  Where  did  you 
find  it?" 

"  On  the  kitchen  table." 

"  And  you  knew  it  was  Ellen's  money." 

"  I  didn't  know." 

"  Yes,  you  knew,  for  you  heard  poor  Ellen  asking 
about  it." 

Steve  twisted  the  little  gold  ring  upon  his  finger, 
but  answered  nothing. 

"  I  thought  you  and  Ellen  were  the  best  of 
friends." 

«  We  be— we  are!1 

"  She  has  been  very  kind  to  you,  hasn't  she  ?  She 
has  cooked  things  especially  for  you;  and  she  tied 
up  your  thumb  that  day  you  cut  it." 

"  Yes." 

"  And  now,"  continued  the  doctor,  always  gently, 
"  you  repay  her  by  robbing  her  of  her  wages." 

Steve  lowered  his  eyes. 

"  You  rob  her,  your  own  friend,  to  whom  you 
ought  to  be  grateful,  by  depriving  her  of  the  benefits 
of  her  labor." 

This  was  putting  it  in  a  new  light.  A  little  color 
crept  over  Stephen's  face,  and  he  looked  away. 

140 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"  Pretty  small  business,  isn't  it,  for  a  manly  boy 
with  any  sense  of  honor?  And  it  is  disappointing 
for  me  to  find  you  are  too  weak  to  resist  temptation, 
and  ready  to  turn  at  any  moment  and  betray  those 
who  trust  you,  who  helped  you  when  in  trouble. 
Ingratitude  is  bad  enough;  but  to  be  a  thieving 
traitor  who — " 

"  No,  no ! "  exclaimed  Steve,  facing  about  with 
quivering  lips,  "  I  ain't  that !  I  ain't !  I  didn't  think 
all  that.  Really,  I  didn't !  "  and,  extending  his  arm, 
he  pressed  his  hand  against  the  doctor's  chest. 

"  Well,  I  believe  you,  Stephen ;  that  you  didn't 
realize  what  a  mean  business  you  were  undertaking. 
But  I  want  you  to  make  me  a  promise, — a  solemn 
promise  that  you  will  stick  to  through  thick  and 
thin,  all  your  life.  That  is,  that  you  will  never  steal 
again;  never,  under  any  circumstances.  Can  you 
make  such  a  promise  and  keep  it?" 

"Yes,  sir!    Yes,  sir!" 

"  But  I  do  not  wish  you  to  make  the  promise 
unless  you  are  sure  you  can  keep  it." 

"  I  am  sure  I  can.    I  will" 

"  Very  well.  Then  lay  your  hand  in  mine,  so. 
Now  say,  '  Dr.  Thorne,  I  give  you  my  word  of 
honor  that  I  will  never  steal  again/  ' 

Steve  repeated  the  words  with  an  emphasis  and 
decision  that  gave  encouragement  to  the  listener. 

141 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

The  interview  had  been  short;  but  the  counsellor 
and  friend,  considering  the  offender's  character, 
believed  the  lesson  might  be  weakened  by  a  moral 
lecture. 

Ellen  was  reimbursed,  and  Stephen  made  to  feel 
\  liat  he  was  freely  forgiven  and  fully  trusted. 

A  day  or  two  later,  quite  early  in  the  morning, 
as  Steve  was  lounging  about  the  porch  in  company 
whh  Cato,  his  rapturous  admirer,  Captain  Chauncey 
came  down  the  stairs  and  halted  in  the  doorway,  rod 
in  hand,  all  dressed  and  equipped  for  fishing.  His 
face  seemed  harder  than  usual,  and  yet  about  his 
mouth  were  indications  of  a  smile.  This  smile, 
had  it  developed,  would  have  been  sardonic  and 
exultant. 

"Are  you  going  fishing?"  asked  Stephen. 

Captain  Chauncey  regarded  the  boy  a  moment, 
and  appeared  to  be  getting  his  mouth  into  just  the 
right  position  for  the  kind  of  answer  he  proposed  to 
give.  This  resulted  in  a  curling  of  the  upper  lip,  a 
slight  opening  of  the  mouth,  and  a  further  pro 
jection  of  the  under  jaw. 

"  No,  I  am  going  first  to  a  funeral  and  then  to 
church.  I  should  think  you  might  have  guessed  it 
from  my  basket,  rod,  and  bait  box." 

Stephen,  too  simple  and  direct  himself  to  fully 
grasp  the  sarcasm,  smiled  pleasantly  in  return. 

142 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

Captain  Chauncey  gave  no  responding  smile,  but 
asked  a  question, — 

"  Would  the  murderer  like  to  go  too  ?  " 

"  Yes ! "  and  Steve,  with  enthusiasm,  jumped 
quickly  from  his  seat.  "  I'll  get  my  line  in  a 
second !  " 

"  Hold  on !  Don't  be  in  a  hurry.  To-day  I  prefer 
to  be  alone.  The  invitation  is  for  some  other 
day." 

Then,  as  the  face  before  him  changed  from  happy 
expectancy  to  the  keenest  sorrow,  and  then  to  em 
barrassment,  the  captain  really  smiled, — his  usual 
smile,  however,  of  victory,  not  of  mirth:  his  mouth 
opening  wider  at  the  corners  than  in  the  centre.  He 
also  raised  his  chin,  and  regarded  Stephen  with  eyes 
that  gave  no  suggestion  of  a  smile.  Then  he  turned 
and  walked  away. 

Stephen's  adoration  of  Mrs.  Chauncey  implied  no 
hostility  toward  the  existing  husband.  On  the  con 
trary,  he  tried  to  like  him.  Future  complications 
resulting  from  a  second  spouse  caused  him  no 
anxiety. 

Whether  Captain  Chauncey  would  relinquish 
his  wife  upon  the  appearance  of  another  suitor,  or 
whether  God  in  His  mercy  would  remove  the  captain 
at  the  proper  time,  as  He  habitually  removed  the 
shades  of  night  at  sunrise,  were  unimportant  details 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

to  be  adjusted  in  the  happy  future.  Steve  only 
knew  with  certainty  that  ten  years  hence,  when  he 
was  twenty-one, — Bessie  of  course  remaining  her 
present  age, — they  were  to  be  married ;  he,  Stephen, 
in  the  intervening  years  having  covered  himself 
with  blood  and  glory.  At  present  he  was  forced  to 
content  himself  with  watching  her,  with  listening 
to  her  voice,  and  dreaming  dreams  of  heroic  deeds 
and  complete  possession. 

It  was  with  deep  although  silent  grief  that  he 
learned  the  lady  of  his  choice  was  merely  visiting 
at  Lynstock;  and  he  partook  sincerely  in  the  family 
sorrow  when  Bessie  informed  them,  one  morning 
at  breakfast,  that  their  visit  was  to  be  shortened  by 
a  month,  Captain  Chauncey  having  decided  to 
return  to  Vienna  within  a  week.  There  were  traces 
of  weeping  in  her  face  when  she  came  to  the  table, 
and  this  information  was  given  with  quivering  lips 
and  in  a  breaking  voice. 

Aunt  Lorinda  laid  down  her  knife  and  fork, 
leaned  back  in  her  chair,  and  refrained  from  speech. 
She  knew  that  if  she  spoke  her  expressions  would 
shock  her  nephew.  Had  the  captain  himself  been 
present,  the  temptation  might  have  proved  too 
strong.  Dr.  Thorne  arose  from  the  table  and 
walked  into  his  study,  bearing  the  outward  traces  of 
a  righteous  indignation;  for  he  knew  as  well  as 

144 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

Aunt  Lorinda  that  Captain  Chauncey  made  no  pre 
tence  of  respect  for  Bessie's  wishes  or  for  those  of 
her  family.  This  visit  to  her  home,  the  first  in  five 
years,  was  not  likely  to  be  repeated,  as  the  captain 
was  bored  at  Lynstock,  and  he  was  not  a  victim  to 
the  habit  of  self-sacrifice.  To  be  sure,  he  had  prom 
ised,  and  it  was  distinctly  understood,  that  they  were 
to  remain  until  the  middle  of  September;  and  he 
knew  that  for  this  violation  of  his  word  there  would 
be  an  augmentation  of  contempt  on  the  part  of 
Aunt  Lorinda  and  of  Dr.  Thome.  That  troubled 
him  little,  however,  as  once  out  of  Lynstock  neither 
he  nor  Bessie  should  ever  enter  it  again. 

As  for  Stephen,  he  looked  forward  to  a  sunless 
life  after  the  departure  of  the  woman  he  loved. 

The  knowledge  of  this  approaching  separation 
caused  father  and  daughter  to  be  more  frequently 
together  during  the  remaining  days.  And  one 
afternoon  that  very  week,  while  Dr.  Thorne  was 
writing  at  his  study-table,  Bessie  sat  near  the  open 
window,  her  work  in  her  lap,  gazing  sadly  over  the 
flowers  to  the  distant  hills.  A  summer  breeze, 
bearing  perfumes  from  the  old-fashioned  garden, — 
the  garden  of  her  happy  youth, — blew  gently  against 
her  face,  and  sharpened  the  sorrow  of  approaching 
separation. 

Around  this  library — a  long  low  room,  with  win- 
145 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

dows  on  opposite  sides — ran  an  old-fashioned 
wainscoting  reaching  half-way  to  the  ceiling.  The 
paper  was  a  faded  green,  dotted  with  enormous 
roses,  once  crimson,  but  which  during  seventy  years 
had  faded  to  the  palest  pink.  There  were  cases 
filled  with  books,  and  above  them  hung  family 
portraits  and  some  quaint  old  prints.  An  enormous 
chimney,  with  panels  to  the  ceiling  and  cupboards 
at  the  sides,  filled  one  end  of  the  apartment. 

Stephen,  in  a  further  corner,  was  adorning  the 
surface  of  a  kite.  This  kite,  a  pretentious  structure, 
was  the  result  of  long  hours  of  labor.  The  only 
sounds  in  the  room  came  from  the  squeaking  goose- 
quill  moving  swiftly  across  the  paper,  with 
occasional  movements  from  Stephen  as  he  applied 
the  colors  to  the  "  Daisy  Flyer."  Steve  was  no 
artist,  and  once,  when  the  writer  turned  to  see  how 
the  work  progressed,  he  smiled  at  the  gaudy  masses 
that  represented,  in  the  painter's  mind,  a  lady  with 
golden  wings.  One  indigo  eye,  from  the  excess  of 
color,  had  traversed  cheek  and  neck.  The  space 
for  the  mouth  had  been  forgotten,  and  the  yellow 
wings  were  fluttering  in  unwished-for  places.  Cato, 
slumbrous  and  with  blinking  eyes,  sat  close  by  his 
master's  feet.  Occasionally  he  moved  an  admiring 
glance  from  the  kite  to  Stephen's  face. 

This  peaceful  silence,  whose  only  interruption 
146 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

within  half  an  hour  had  been  the  temporary  visit 
of  a  humming-bird,  at  last  was  harshly  broken.  In 
the  vicinity  of  the  kite  there  was  a  rapid  movement, 
with  a  peculiar  sound  from  Cato  as  if  he  had  re 
ceived  a  kick;  a  snapping  of  wood,  a  rending  of 
paper,  all  followed  by  a  flow  of  language  that 
brought  the  writer  to  his  feet  with  an  exclamation 
of  disgust. 

This  flow  of  language  consisted  almost  exclu 
sively  of  curses.  The  kite  with  the  lady  on  its  sur 
face  was  denounced  in  reckless  terms.  The  Al 
mighty  and  our  Saviour  were  blasphemously  in 
sulted,  these  holy  names,  in  the  lavish  and  uncon- 
sidered  invective,  becoming  themselves  the  objects 
of  their  own  anathema.  And  from  the  startling 
frequency  of  the  word  "  damn  "  and  from  its  super 
fluous  repetition,  it  was  obvious  that  the  speaker 
employed  it  not  only  for  the  meaning  conveyed, 
but  because  of  its  welcome  sound.  The  malodor- 
ousness  of  the  most  sacred  characters  of  Chris 
tianity  was  repeatedly  alluded  to,  and  with  no  at 
tempt  at  refinement. 

With  the  first  sentence  of  this  triumph  of  blas 
phemy  Bessie  started  to  her  feet,  horror-stricken  and 
doubting  her  own  senses.  The  revolting  language, 
all  swiftly  uttered  in  a  reckless  fury,  had  for  its 
accompaniment  a  whirlwind  of  paper,  sticks,  and 

147 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

kite  tail,  Stephen  dancing  in  the  centre  with  re 
volving  arms,  beside  himself  with  passion. 

Cato,  from  beneath  a  distant  table,  looked  on  in 
pained  astonishment,  and  fixed  inquiring  eyes  upon 
Dr.  Thorne. 

The  commotion  ended  as  suddenly  as  it  began. 
Stephen  staggered  from  the  wreck,  drawing  the 
back  of  his  hand  across  his  forehead.  His  face  was 
very  white.  Defiantly  and  with  sullen  rage  his 
eyes  for  an  instant  met  the  gaze  of  Dr.  Thorne; 
then  he  lowered  his  face  as  if  in  shame. 

"Are  you  mad?" 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  Do  you  suppose  such  language 
is  permitted  in  this  house?  Or  in  any  other?  " 

Stephen  looked  up.  His  lips,  now  dry  and  color 
less,  made  the  motions  of  replying,  but  no  sound 
came  forth. 

"You  understand?'*  said  Dr.  Thorne,  with  a 
severity  in  terrifying  contrast  to  his  usual  gentle 
ness.  "  Even  to  have  such  thoughts  is  disgraceful. 
To  utter  them  an  unpardonable  offence — not  only 
against  religion  but  against  decency  and  against 
your  friends." 

Stephen  tried  to  speak,  and  had  to  moisten  his 
lips.  His  voice  was  hoarse,  and  came  with  diffi 
culty. 

148 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"What  did  I  say?" 

"  What  did  you  say !  Do  you  suppose  any  self- 
respecting  person  is  going  to  repeat  it  ?  " 

In  a  firmer  voice,  unmistakably  sincere,  and  with 
a  troubled  expression,  he  said :  "  Really,  sir ;  really 
I  don't  know  what  I  said." 

"  Then  are  you  crazy  ?  Are  you  a  blasphemer  so 
callous  and  irresponsible  that  you  have  already  for 
gotten?" 

The  blasphemer  closed  his  eyes,  and  again  drew 
the  back  of  a  hand  across  his  forehead. 

"  I  guess  I'm  crazy,  like  ma." 

"  Better  if  you  were  crazy  than  do  it  knowingly." 

Steve  made  no  defence. 

"  What's  that  about  your  mother  ?  You  say  crazy 
like  her?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Was  she — had  she  such  fits  of  temper  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir !  And  she  was  crazy  mad  when  she 
had  'em."  Then,  with  a  mournful  glance  toward  the 
remnants  of  the  kite, — the  kite  upon  which  he  and 
Billy  Brewster  had  spent  several  afternoons  of  en 
thusiastic  labor,  "  She  used  to  smash  things  too. 
She  came  near  killin'  dad,  an'  more'n  once." 

In  a  gentler  voice,  reflectively,  as  if  communing 
with  himself,  Dr.  Thorne  inquired,  "  So  your  mother 
had  similar  attacks  ?  " 

149 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Dr.  Thorne  returned  to  his  chair,  and  for  a 
moment  sat  in  silence.  Then  he  called  Stephen  to  his 
side,  and  as  he  listened  to  certain  anecdotes  of  Mrs. 
Wadsworth,  of  her  murderous  fury,  and  of  how 
father  and  son,  habitually  and  by  a  previous  under 
standing,  seized  and  held  her  for  common  safety 
until  reason  returned,  his  anger  gave  place  to  pity. 
And  Steve,  thoroughly  ashamed  of  his  behavior, 
received  words  of  consolation  and  advice.  Then, 
collecting  the  scattered  fragments  of  the  kite,  he 
left  the  library,  the  forgiving  Cato  at  his  heels. 

Dr.  Thorne  went  over  to  the  window,  and 
standing  by  his  daughter,  they  discussed  this  matter, 
deciding  to  aid  their  guest  by  gentle  means  toward 
a  mastery  of  himself. 

"  Such  a  temper/*  said  the  father,  "  is  an  awful 
heritage,  too  heavy  for  human  resistance.  Poor 
Steve!  I  sometimes  think  him  specially  ordained, 
by  inheritance  and  training,  for  a  life  of  crime.  His 
very  virtues  are  against  him.  Courage,  self-reliance, 
and  a  love  of  freedom  and  adventure  make  a  dan 
gerous  balance-wheel  to  a  perverted  conscience. 
And  with  his  health  and  strength  it  is  all  the  harder 
to  be  good." 

As  he  stood  by  her  chair,  both  looking  out  into 
the  garden,  they  went  on  to  other  subjects,  each 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

avoiding  the  one  that  lay  heaviest  in  their  hearts, 
the  parting,  perhaps  forever,  that  was  soon  to 
come. 

Long  after  he  had  returned  to  his  work,  Bessie's 
hands  lay  idle  in  her  lap,  her  eyes  moving  sadly 
from  the  old  garden  to  the  little  cemetery  on  the  hill, 
then  to  her  parent  at  the  table,  whose  life,  as  she 
now  reviewed  it,  seemed  one  unvarying  record  of 
kindly  deeds,  of  unresting  charity  and  of  self-for- 
getfulness. 

The  sun,  now  sinking  in  the  west,  was  creeping 
slowly  across  the  carpet,  when  a  door  from  the  hall 
opened  very  slowly — and  very  little.  Dr.  Thorne, 
who  chanced  in  a  reflective  moment  to  be  looking  in 
that  direction,  saw  the  maid,  with  a  warning  glance 
toward  Bessie,  anxiously  beckon  him  to  come  out. 
He  obeyed. 

On  the  porch  stood  a  group  of  men.  At  the  end 
of  the  path,  outside  the  gate,  were  other  people, 
men,  women,  and  children,  all  silent  and  with 
solemn  faces,  looking  earnestly  toward  the  house. 
The  spokesman,  as  Dr.  Thorne  approached,  removed 
his  hat  and  stood  aside.  Upon  a  rudely  constructed 
litter  lay  a  human  form,  the  face  reverently  hidden 
by  a  cloth. 

"  He  was  found  in  the  woods  about  an  hour  ago 
at  the  foot  of  Beeman's  Ledge,  by  a  couple  o'  boys. 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

He  probably  slipped  from  the  rocks,  and  must  V 
fell  nigh  onto  a  hundred  feet." 

As  he  spoke,  the  cloth  was  removed,  and  Dr. 
Thome  looked  down  upon  the  cold,  white  face  of 
Captain  Chauncey. 


152 


VIII 

RELATING  to  this  death  were  circum 
stances  which  invited  explanation. 
The  narrowest  part  of  the  ledge — the 
point  where  Captain  Chauncey's  hat  was  found 
and  at  whose  base  lay  the  body — was  fully  two 
yards  wide,  and  although  a  hundred  feet  from 
the  rocks  beneath  was  never  regarded  as  a  hazard 
ous  path.  By  the  inhabitants  of  Upper  Lynstock 
it  was  frequently  travelled  as  a  shorter  cut  to  the 
larger  village.  Captain  Chauncey  himself  had  trod 
den  it  twenty  times  at  least  this  very  summer  in 
going  to  Willow  Pond,  and  on  this  particular  day 
there  appeared  no  signs  of  unusual  peril.  It  was 
not  slippery,  and  no  portion  of  the  shelf  had  given 
way. 

His  felt  hat,  a  light  pearl-gray  in  color,  was  lying 
a  yard  or  more  from  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  and 
bore  unmistakable  marks  of  having  been  ground  into 
the  earth  by  a  heel  with  iron  nails.  This  suggested 
violence,  as  he  could  hardly  have  done  it  himself  in 
an  accidental  fall.  Nothing  else  was  found  upon  the 

153 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

ledge.  His  fishing-rod  with  nickel-plated  joints, 
which  he  carried  when  he  left  the  house,  had  disap 
peared.  The  most  thorough  search  in  the  neighbor 
hood  of  his  body  and  also  about  the  ledge  developed 
no  trace  of  it. 

The  body  lay  directly  beneath  the  ledge.  The 
back  of  the  skull  was  broken  in,  presumably  by  the 
fall,  as  no  signs  of  blood  were  visible  either  upon  his 
hat  or  anywhere  in  its  vicinity.  His  cravat,  the 
clothing  about  his  chest,  and  one  sleeve  were  be 
grimed  and  scraped  with  dirt,  the  rest  of  his  apparel 
being  hardly  soiled.  The  finger-nails  of  both  hands, 
being  broken  and  filled  with  dirt,  gave  evidence  of 
desperate  clutchings  at  earth  and  rocks  and  bushes. 

These  facts  excited  comment,  and  comment  led 
swiftly  to  suspicion, — first  of  suicide,  then  of  foul 
play.  The  evidence,  however,  while  seemingly 
sufficient  for  either  theory,  contradicted  both. 

No  theory  of  suicide  was  accepted  by  those  who 
knew  him.  He  was  fond  of  life,  and  his  fear  of 
death  was  more  than  wholesome.  The  idea  of  mur 
der  appeared  equally  unreasonable,  as  he  had  no  ene 
mies  in  the  village,  and  his  pockets  were  undisturbed. 
His  watch  and  a  few  dollars  still  remained  upon  his 
person.  Nobody  in  Lynstock  seemed  likely  to  com 
mit  a  murder  for  a  fishing-rod,  especially  as  its  dis 
covery  might  send  the  possessor  to  the  gallows. 

154 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

Taken  altogether,  it  was  a  death  that  formed  a 
thrilling  mystery. 

On  the  day  of  the  funeral,  from  early  morning 
until  late  at  night,  a  heavy  rain,  varying  only  in  its 
degrees  of  copiousness,  saturated  the  village  and 
formed  generous  puddles  along  its  streets  and  side 
walks. 

The  services  were  at  the  house,  Dr.  Thorne  offici 
ating. 

A  prayer  was  offered  by  the  bishop.  This  prayer, 
considering  the  bishop's  low  esteem  for  the  spirit 
previously  animating  the  remains  before  him,  was  a 
non-committal  triumph.  While  cautious,  it  appeared 
benignly  comprehensive.  In  so  far  as  it  concerned 
the  deceased,  this  prayer  could  have  been  offered 
with  equal  fitness  at  the  funeral  of  Florence  Night 
ingale  or  of  Captain  Kidd. 

The  task  of  Dr.  Thorne  was  far  less  simple.  A 
more  specific  application  is  expected  in  a  eulogy,  and 
Captain  Chauncey  had  earned  his  sincere  contempt, 
a  contempt  that  was  hearty  and  without  reservation. 
Moreover  the  death  which  it  was  now  his  office  to 
publicly  regret,  could  not  fail  to  prove  a  blessing  to 
his  daughter  and  an  unspeakable  relief  to  all  who 
loved  her.  But  the  speaker  was  no  novice.  With 
skilful  emphasis  he  touched  upon  those  faults  of 
which  the  deceased  was  guiltless,  dwelling  kindly 

155 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

upon  the  fact  that  in  this  sudden  death  they  had  lost 
a  refined,  intelligent  companion,  a  seeker  after 
knowledge,  a  temperate,  dignified,  law-abiding  citi 
zen.  And  this  he  could  do  with  truth,  wishing  his 
hearers  to  forget,  at  least  for  the  time,  that  this  same 
son-in-law  had  been  ungrateful,  mean,  and  cruel; 
that  he  was  a  domestic  bully,  useless,  offensively 
selfish,  and  impossible  to  live  with.  In  these  re 
marks  he  thought  principally  of  his  mourning  daugh 
ter.  This  daughter,  whose  sensitive  conscience  up 
braided  her  for  having  withheld  that  perfect  love 
and  confidence  which  the  ideal  wife  should  lavish 
upon  a  husband,  was  crushed  with  grief;  and  this 
grief  was  now  more  torturing  than  if  her  husband 
had  been  a  better  man. 

Aunt  Lorinda,  her  face  invisible  behind  a  veil, 
seemed  a  model  of  self-control;  while  Steve,  in  his 
Sunday  suit  of  black  with  a  broad  white  collar,  sat 
demurely  near  the  foot  of  the  coffin  and  comported 
himself  with  becoming  solemnity.  Once,  however, 
as  Dr.  Thorne,  during  a  pause  in  his  remarks,  hap 
pened  to  look  down  into  his  face,  he  was  greeted  by 
an  intent,  somewhat  puzzled  expression,  quickly  fol 
lowed  by  a  half-suppressed  smile,  which  at  the 
moment  he  regarded  merely  as  a  boyish  recognition. 

On  returning  from  the  cemetery  the  disconsolate 
Bessie  sought  seclusion  in  her  chamber,  Aunt 

156 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

Lorinda,  with  Dr.  Thorne  and  the  Bishop,  passing 
on  into  the  library. 

As  they  entered  this  room,  where  the  melancholy 
silence  of  a  recent  death  still  held  possession,  the  ir 
repressible  aunt  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  Death  is  an  awful  thing,  although  this  be 
reavement  does  strengthen  my  faith  in  the  watch 
fulness  of  Providence." 

"  Aunt  Lorinda !  "  exclaimed  Dr.  Thorne.  "  Re 
spect  the  dead ! " 

"  Oh,  come  now,  William,"  she  retorted,  turning 
about  and  confronting  her  two  distinguished  neph 
ews,  "  you  are  much  too  good !  You  know  as  well 
as  anybody  that  he  was  the  curse  of  Bessie's  life. 
And  of  yours  too!  Any  show  of  grief  from  those 
who  care  for  that  girl  is  a  transparent  sham. 
We've  put  on  black  and  seen  him  properly  buried, 
— all  with  solemn  faces  and  a  decent  show  of  grief, 
— which  is  more  than  he  would  have  done  for  us. 
And  now,  I  say,  all  who  have  any  regard  for  our 
Bessie  are  inwardly  rejoicing." 

Turning  suddenly  to  the  bishop,  she  demanded, — • 

"  Am  I  right,  John,  or  not  ?  " 

The  bishop  raised  his  eyebrows  and  stroked  his 
handsome  chin. 

"  Well,"  he  answered  reflectively.  "  Possibly,— 
in  a  sense.  But  there  is  a  solemnity  in  death — " 

157 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  Solemnity  in  rubbish !  You  parsons  are  more 
timid  than  mice.  Forget  that  you  are  a  bishop  and 
for  once  in  your  life  give  an  honest  opinion !  " 

Dr.  Thorne  could  not  repress  a  smile. 

"  That's  into  you,  John." 

"  You  both  know,"  continued  Aunt  Lorinda,  un 
tying  the  strings  of  her  bonnet  with  decisive  fin 
gers,  "  that  this  sudden  taking  off  was  no  accident. 
It  was  the  punishment  of  God !  " 

A  movement  in  a  farther  corner  of  the  room 
caused  all  to  look  in  that  direction.  From  a  spa 
cious  chair  whose  back  was  toward  them,  Stephen 
emerged  and  came  slowly  toward  the  group.  In 
his  hand  was  a  book,  and  at  his  heels  walked  Cato. 
He  had  never  appeared  so  intensely  respectable — 
so  genteel  and  outwardly  moral — as  now.  In  his 
Sunday  suit  of  black,  which  he  had  donned  for  the 
funeral,  with  its  knee-breeches,  long  stockings,  and 
expansive  linen  collar,  he  suggested  a  Van  Dyck 
portrait  as  he  stood,  book  in  hand,  against  the  gloom 
behind,  the  side-light  from  the  windows  leaving  half 
his  face  in  shadow. 

With  a  nod  of  approval  he  smiled  upon  Aunt 
Lorinda.  "  It  wasn't  any  accident,  'cause  I  did  it.'* 

Dr.  Thorne  frowned. 

"Did  what?" 

"  Pushed  Captain  Chauncey  off  the  ledge." 
158 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

Aunt  Lorinda  took  a  backward  step  and  sank 
into  the  nearest  chair.  Her  parted  lips  lost  what 
little  color  they  possessed. 

"  You  pushed  him  off!  "  she  exclaimed,  in  a  voice 
hardly  above  a  whisper. 

Steve  nodded, — a  boastful,  swaggering  nod;  and 
he  smiled  as  if  enjoying  her  surprise. 

Although  she  knew  the  boy  to  be  a  liar,  there 
was  something  in  his  face  and  manner  at  the  pres 
ent  moment  that  deprived  her  of  the  power  of 
speech.  Dr.  Thorne  with  contracted  brows  regarded 
him  intently,  as  if  refusing  to  believe.  He  also 
knew  him  to  be  a  liar,  but  he  had  learned  to  recog 
nize  those  occasions  when  Truth  and  Stephen  were 
together,  and  this  was  one  of  them. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Stephen  ?  "  he  asked  in  a 
constrained  voice,  in  a  tone  more  anxious  than 
severe.  "  You  do  not  mean  to  say  that  you — 
killed  Captain  Chauncey  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

There  was  less  boast  fulness  in  this  answer. 

The  three  pairs  of  eyes,  all  fixed  intently  upon  his 
own  in  a  sudden  horror,  had  produced  a  sobering 
effect. 

The  black  bonnet  slipped  from  Aunt  Lorinda's 
fingers  to  the  floor.  She  clutched  the  arms  of  her 
chair,  but  said  nothing.  As  for  the  bishop,  he  stood 

159 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

staring  at  the  boy,  unable  to  reconcile  this  confes 
sion  of  a  monstrous  crime  with  a  pair  of  eyes  so 
overladen  with  purity  and  honor.  Even  Dr.  Thorne, 
more  familiar  with  Stephen's  moral  machinery,  was 
still  unable  to  believe. 

"  It  was,  of  course,  an  accident,"  he  said. 

Steve  shook  his  head  slowly,  but  with  a  sidelong 
movement  to  add  emphasis  to  the  negative. 

"  You  lost  your  temper,  and  became  irrespon 
sible?" 

"  No,  sir.  I  did  it  on  purpose.  I  did  it  for  Mrs. 
Chauncey." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"  I  mean  because  Mrs.  Chauncey  would  never  be 
happy  again  until  he  was  dead."  Turning  to  Aunt 
Lorinda,  he  added,  "  That  very  morning  you  said, 
'  There'll  be  no  happiness  for  Bessie  while  that  man 
lives.'  " 

Aunt  Lorinda  straightened  up  as  if  to  speak,  but 
sank  back  into  her  chair,  and  bowed  her  head. 
Steve  saw  the  movement. 

"'Twa'n't  that  alone,"  he  added  hastily,  to  re 
lieve  her  from  all  responsibility.  "  I  wasn't  tryin' 
to  lay  it  off  onto  you.  I  knew  it  anyway,  from 
lots  of  things." 

For  this  the  lady  gave  acknowledgment  by  a 
motion  of  the  head. 

160 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  Was  that  your  only  motive  ?  "  asked  Dr.  Thorne. 

"  Yes,  sir,  it  was." 

Dr.  Thorne  drew  a  long  breath  and  closed  his 
eyes.  In  the  pause  that  followed,  Stephen  leaned 
back  against  the  table,  studying  the  cover  of  his 
book,  "  The  Last  of  the  Mohicans."  Cato  came  a 
little  nearer,  looking  up  into  his  face  inquiringly, 
as  one  who  began  to  be  bored. 

"Then/'  said  Dr.  Thorne,  still  hoping  for  the 
best,  "you  can  tell  us  what  became  of  his  fishing- 
rod." 

"  Yes,  sir.    It's  up  in  the  attic." 

"  Did  you  bring  it  home  yourself? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Run  up  and  fetch  it." 

As  Steve  left  the  room  with  Cato  at  his  heels, 
two  questioning  faces  turned  anxiously  to  Dr. 
Thorne. 

"  Can  it  be  ?  "  whispered  Aunt  Lorinda. 

A  shake  of  the  head,  as  if  in  doubt,  was  the  only 
answer. 

"  Impossible !  "  exclaimed  the  bishop. 

Stephen's  feet,  clearing  two  steps  at  a  jump  as 
he  ascended  the  stairs,  were  all  that  broke  the 
silence. 

"  It  is  certainly  hard  to  accept,"  said  Dr.  Thorne, 
at  last,  "  yet  I  fear  he  is  telling  the  truth."  Then 

161 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

with  the  deepest  feeling  he  added,  "  Poor  child ! 
I  would  give  much  to  prove  that  he  was  not ! " 

Steve,  in  the  mean  time,  descended  from  the 
attic,  the  missing  fishing-rod  in  his  hand.  As  he 
passed  the  open  door  of  Bessie's  chamber,  she  recog 
nized  the  familiar  article  and  started  to  her  feet. 
But  the  bearer  in  another  instant  was  out  of  hear 
ing,  and  scampering  down  the  stairs. 

When  this  bit  of  evidence  was  placed  in  Dr. 
Thome's  unwilling  hands,  his  face  grew  sadder  and 
he  regarded  it  with  a  melancholy  frown.  He  told 
Steve  to  lay  it  on  the  table.  Steve  obeyed,  remain 
ing  in  his  old  position,  the  three  sable  figures  in  a 
line  before  him. 

The  bishop,  erect  and  impassive,  one  hand  upon 
the  back  of  Aunt  Lorinda's  chair,  unable  to  believe 
yet  knowing  he  heard  the  truth,  was  the  next  to 
speak. 

"  Had  you  already  decided  upon  this  deed,  and 
were  only  waiting  an  opportunity  to  accomplish 
it?" 

"  Oh,  no !  "  Steve  answered  quickly.  "  I  never 
thought  of  it  till  just  that  minute.  We  were  walk 
ing  along,  and  just  before  we  got  to  that  narrow 
place,  where  it's  so  awful  high  and  makes  you  dizzy 
to  look  over,  I  thought  what  an  awful  thing  it  would 
be  for  either  of  us  to  slip  off;  and  then,  right  at 

162 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

the  same  time,  I  remembered  that  if  he  should  slip 
off  it  would  be  a  mighty  good  thing  for  Mrs.  Chaun- 
cey.  But  I  hadn't  any  idea  of  taking  such  a  mean 
advantage  of  him." 

"  Go  on.    Tell  us  just  how  it  happened." 

"  When  we  got  to  the  narrowest  part  he  stopped 
and  said,  '  Steve,  I'll  give  you  a  dollar  to  jump  off.' 
And  he  laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder  as  if  to  make 
me  do  it.  Then  he  sort  of  pushed  me  towards  the 
edge.  He  may  have  been  jokin',  but  it  was  mighty 
dangerous.  And  'twas  mighty  one-sided,  for  I  was 
the  little  feller.  It  made  me  mad.  And  he  was  al 
ways  trying  to  do  that." 

"Trying  to  do  what?" 

"  Trying  to  make  me  mad.  And  sometimes  you 
couldn't  tell  what  his  game  was." 

The  truth  of  this  was  acknowledged  by  affirma 
tive  nods  of  Aunt  Loriada's  head. 

"  But  he  tackled  the  wrong  feller  that  time. 
When  he  pushed  me  I  pushed  him" 

As  the  narrator  appeared  to  expect  some  recogni 
tion  of  the  risks  he  undertook,  the  funereal  aud 
itors  before  him  all  acknowledged  by  look  or  gesture 
their  appreciation  of  the  hazard.  And  this  acknowl 
edgment  was  sincere.  Whatever  their  opinions  as 
to  the  righteousness  of  the  deed,  no  doubt  could 
exist  regarding  the  ability  of  its  execution.  Mis- 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

taking  their  close  attention  for  approval,  he  laid  his 
book  upon  the  table,  that  his  hands  might  be  free, 
and  illustrated  by  occasional  attitudes  and  gestures 
the  position  of  the  ledge  and  of  Captain  Chauncey, 
and  how  the  victory  was  achieved. 

"  So  I  give — I  gave  him  an  awful  push,  just  my 
whole  weight — and  I  ducked.  'Twas  lucky  I  did, 
for  he  clutched  at  my  head  and  pulled  my  hat  off. 
I  couldn't  see  him  when  I  ducked,  but  he  must  have 
kinder  turned  around — tryin'  to  recover  himself,  I 
guess — and  he  fell  just  on  the  edge,  facing  in,  my 
way.  He  slid  over  and  held  on  by  his  hands  and 
one  elbow.  He  was  awful  white, — scared  lookin'. 
His  chin  was  on  the  edge  and  helped  hold  him  up. 
He  thought  it  was  accident,  I  guess,  for  he  said, 
'  Quick,  Steve,  put  your  sleeve  in  my  teeth  and 
pull ! '  But  of  course  I  didn't.  He  would  have 
pulled  me  over.  His  fingers  quivered  and  slipped, 
and  I  saw  he  could  hardly  hold  on,  so  I  shook  my 
head — like  that — to  say  I  wouldn't." 

He  paused  as  if  the  tale  were  ended,  studying  the 
knuckles  of  his  left  hand, — an  action  which  Dr. 
Thorne  had  learned  to  recognize  as  an  indication 
of  embarrassment. 

"  Go  on,"  he  said  gently.  "  Tell  us  everything, 
Stephen." 

Looking  down,  then  up,  and  rubbing  the  back  of 
164 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

his  hand  across  his  forehead,  the  narrator  showed 
signs  of  agitation,  the  first  during  the  interview. 

"  His  face  was  awful  white,  and  he  looked  at  me 
hard — scared  and  mad  both — and  kind  of  whis 
pered,  for  his  voice  wouldn't  come." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

Stephen  hesitated. 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  You  might  as  well  tell  us 
all." 

There  was  a  pause,  but  when  the  answer  came  it 
bore  an  ominous  significance  to  those  familiar  with 
Captain  Chauncey's  prediction. 

"  He  said,  *  So  you  are  a  murderer! ' 

This  swift  fulfilment  of  a  heartless  prophecy 
brought  a  chill  of  awe  to  Aunt  Lorinda.  With  a 
new  terror  she  regarded  Stephen,  who  turned  partly 
away  and  looked  through  a  distant  window,  out  into 
the  rain  beyond. 

"  And  that  was  a  lie,"  said  Stephen,  "  because  I 
am  not  a  murderer.  It  all  happened  in  a  second. 
There  was  no  good  in  my  going  over,  too." 

Cato,  divining  perhaps  the  necessity  of  encour 
agement,  licked  the  hand  that  was  nearest,  thus 
notifying  his  comrade  that  one  friend  remained 
whose  sentiments  were  unaltered. 

"  And  then  did  he  let  go  and — disappear  ?  "  asked 
Aunt  Lorinda,  in  a  low  voice. 

165 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  The  whole  business  was  only  a 
minute.  You  see  there  wa'n't  any  place  underneath 
for  his  feet,  and  his  elbow  kept  slippin'  off,  so  he — 
just  had  to  go." 

There  was  a  silence;  then  the  bishop  took  a  for 
ward  step,  folded  his  hands  behind  him,  and  in  a 
manner  not  unkind  yet  suitably  terrifying  thus  ad 
dressed  the  malefactor, — 

"  The  enormity  of  this  deed  is  evidently  beyond 
your  present  comprehension.  You  fail  to  realize 
what  you  have  done.  If  you  did,  you  would  be  flee 
ing  from  the  haunts  of  men  with  the  shadow  of 
the  gallows  across  your  path.  Do  you  know  the 
punishment  for  the  crime  of  murder?" 

Steve,  deeply  impressed  either  by  the  words  or 
by  the  sonorousness  of  their  delivery,  had  grown 
uneasy,  and  now  looked  up  with  a  hostile  irown. 
But  he  did  not  answer. 

"  For  a  man,"  continued  the  bishop,  "  the  pun 
ishment  is  death;  for  you,  the  penitentiary." 

Now,  this  boy  had  heard  of  penitentiaries,  from 
another  boy,  who  had  been  there,  and  he  made  a 
swift  resolve  never  to  enter  one  alive.  As  for  Dr. 
Thorne,  he  regretted  the  bishop's  speech,  having  in 
mind  quite  a  different  plan  for  bringing  the  sinner 
to  a  realization  of  his  offence. 

But  the  speaker  continued, — 
1 66 


Dr  Thome's    Idea 

"  Suppose  the  rest  of  us  should  take  it  upon  our 
selves  to  rid  the  world  of  those  against  whom  we 
had  the  slightest  grievance.  Suppose — " 

"  But  there  wasn't  any  grievance !  "  interrupted 
Steve.  "  I  didn't  mean  to  do  it !  I  didn't  do  it  for 
myself;- 1  did  it — "  He  stopped,  his  glance  moving 
suddenly  to  the  door  behind  the  bishop.  The  others 
looked  about,  and  from  Aunt  Lorinda  came  an  ex 
clamation, — 

"Bessie!    You  here!" 

Standing  in  the  doorway,  pale,  one  hand  against 
her  cheek,  Bessie's  eyes  wandered  excitedly  from 
Stephen's  face  to  those  about  her.  Taking  a  step 
toward  her  father,  she  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  scarcely 
louder  than  a  whisper, — 

"Can.it.be!     Can  it  be!" 

Dr.  Thorne  took  one  of  her  hands  in  his.  "  Why, 
darling,  your  fingers  are  like  ice !  Go  back  to  your 
room  for  a  time.  Steve  was  only  telling  us — how 
it  happened." 

"  No !  I  heard.    It's  awful,  awful !  " 

She  sank  into  a  chair,  her  eyes,  red  from  weeping, 
fixed  in  terror  upon  the  face  of  her  youthful  adorer. 
Dr.  Thorne  observed  it.  Turning  to  the  boy,  he 
said  in  a  gentler  tone, — 

"  Go  to  your  chamber,  Steve,  and  remain  until  I 
send  for  you." 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

Stephen,  in  passing  near  her  as  he  left  the  room, 
stopped,  looked  somewhat  timidly  into  her  face,  and 
was  about  to  speak,  when  she  shrank  backward, 
overturning  the  chair  as  she  rose  to  her  feet.  In  so 
doing  she  breathed  a  word,  inaudibly,  and  perhaps 
unconsciously,  a  word  that  Steve  could  only  guess 
at.  From  the  movement  of  her  lips  and  what  little 
he  could  hear,  he  guessed  it  to  be  "  murderer." 

Into  his  own  face  it  brought  an  expression  which 
rarely  came  there,  an  expression  of  dismay  and  of 
fading  courage.  He  lowered  his  eyes ;  then,  with  a 
slight  movement  of  the  lips,  he  left  the  room. 

There  were  callers  that  evening,  relatives  and 
friends,  and  the  hour  was  late  when  Dr.  Thorne 
retired,  having  had  no  time  for  talking  with  the 
evil-doer. 

The  next  morning,  as  he  dressed,  he  went  over  in 
his  mind  the  most  effective  arguments  for  this  mis 
guided  boy.  He  fully  realized  the  necessity  of 
gentleness  and  diplomacy. 

Knowing  this  to  be  a  crisis  in  his  guest's  career, 
he  regretted  the  bishop's  mistaken  effort  at  intimi 
dation;  and  this  regret  became  a  sudden  appre 
hension  as  he  espied  a  note  beneath  his  chamber 
door.  Who  but  Steve  would  place  it  there  ? 

He  picked  it  up  and  adjusted  his  glasses, 
1 68 


BOTH  MARCHED  WITH  DROOPING  HEADS 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

DR.  THORNE, — Good  by.     I  will  not  go  to  a  pentenshary 
which  is  the  same  as  prison.     I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  my 
nice  visit.    All  your  goodness  to  me  I  shant  shall  never  forget. 
Affectionately  yours, 

STEPHEN  WADSWORTH. 

The  front  door  was  found  unlocked.  He  had  de 
parted  either  late  at  night  or  very  early  in  the 
morning,  as  no  one  in  the  town  had  seen  him  pass. 

The  only  positive  information  was  given  that 
evening  by  the  village  doctor.  Four  miles  from 
Lynstock,  in  the  uncertain  light  of  early  dawn,  he 
had  met  a  mud-stained  boy  with  a  dog  following 
closely  at  his  heels.  Both  marched  with  drooping 
heads  and  through  a  soaking  rain. 


169 


IX 

OF  the  fugitives  no  trace  was  found ;  no  clue 
whatever  save   the  misty  apparition  re 
ported  by  the  village  doctor.     Although 
the  expressman  of  a  neighboring  village  had  no 
ticed  a  vicious-looking  dog  as  he  hovered  about  a 
freight-train,  his  description  of  the  boy  who  ac 
companied  him  was  too  indefinite  to  be  of  value; 
and  his  observations  of  the  dog  were  only  from  a 
distance,  as  he  took  especial  care  to  avoid  a  close 
acquaintance. 

To  Dr.  Thome  this  disappearance  was  a  serious 
blow.  He  felt  the  gravest  anxiety  in  regard  to 
Stephen's  future,  knowing  well  the  influence  of  as 
sociates  for  good  and  for  evil  in  the  development  of 
such  a  character.  But  all  efforts  to  find  him  were 
in  vain.  Days,  weeks,  and  months  went  by,  and 
brought  no  news ;  yet  the  faithful  friend  never  quite 
gave  up  the  search.  While  still  remembering  and 
always  on  the  watch  for  the  name  or  face  of  Stephen 
Wadsworth,  his  hope  grew  fainter  as  the  years 
went  by. 

170 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

Whatever  the  effects  upon  Steve  himself  of  his 
unpardonable  crime,  its  results,  as  felt  by  others, 
were  far  from  melancholy.  In  the  home  at  Lyn- 
stock  there  came  a  permanent  peace;  a  renewal  of 
the  old  relations,  affectionate  and  without  restraint, 
that  in  time  brought  the  color  to  Bessie's  cheeks. 
And  the  old-time  laughter  again  was  heard.  Aunt 
Lorinda,  when  alone  with  her  nephew,  had  more 
than  once  declared  that  Stephen  was  a  messenger 
from  Heaven,  and  that  she  often  mentioned  him  in 
her  prayers.  It  gave  her  pleasure  to  repeat  a  fa 
mous  line  which  Dr.  Thorne  had  often  quoted, — 

44  Whatever  is,  is  right." 

On  one  occasion,  as  they  were  walking  home  to 
gether  beneath  the  elms  of  Lynstock,  she  thus  ex 
pressed  herself, — 

"  If  I  were  a  youthful  beauty  and  Alfred  Chaun- 
cey  and  Stephen  Wadsworth  should  present  them 
selves  as  suitors,  do  you  suppose  that  I  would  hesi 
tate  between  them?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,  Aunt  Lorinda.  But  I  do 
know  one  thing;  and  that  is  that  the  one  you  didn't 
like  would  not  be  long  in  doubt.'* 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  hesitate  a  minute  between 
a  highly  respectable,  cowardly,  lying,  lazy,  domestic 
bully  and  an  open-hearted  murderer,  especially  if  he 

171 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

were,  like  Stephen,  courageous,  straightforward, 
and  affectionate  ?  Not  for  one  minute !  " 

"  Aunt  Lorinda,  you  are  hard  upon  the  dead. 
Remember,  nil  nisi  bonum." 

"  Rubbish !  The  bad  were  no  better  for  now 
being  dead.  Would  you  hesitate  yourself?  " 

"  We  are  not  called  upon  to  decide  that  question.'* 

"I  am.  And  I  know  and  you  know,  you  would 
rather  see  Bessie  in  her  grave  than  married  to  an 
other  Alfred  Chauncey." 

Dr.  Thorne  made  no  reply. 

"  Whereas  Stephen,"  she  continued,  "  with  all  his 
badness, — and  Heaven  knows  he  was  bad  enough ! 
— had  something  that  made  you  side  with  him, 
something  you  couldn't  help  respecting.  You  can 
admit  that,  I  suppose,  without  endangering  your 
soul?" 

Her  nephew  smiled. 

"Yes;  I  admit  that." 

His  affection  for  the  vanished  murderer,  although 
founded  upon  a  short  acquaintance,  was  solid  and 
enduring. 

But  to  Dr.  Thorne  there  came  a  trial  of  a  some 
what  peculiar  nature,  and,  in  a  sense,  of  his  own 
creation.  It  even  threatened  to  prove  an  obstacle  to 
his  usefulness. 

Frequent  allusion,  in  his  sermons  and  in  private 
172 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

conversations,  to  the  present  comings  of  Our 
Saviour,  while  always  doubted  by  the  majority  of 
his  hearers,  was  at  first  accepted  as  the  innocent 
hallucination  of  a  poetic  but  over-credulous  spirit. 
As  years  went  on,  this  persistent  faith  in  the  testi 
mony  of  a  nameless  witness  came  to  be  regarded  as 
a  mental  weakness;  and  Dr.  Thorne  discovered  by 
degrees  that,  instead  of  being  welcomed  as  the  her 
ald  of  a  glorious  truth,  he  had  become  an  object  of 
compassion,  and,  at  times,  of  ridicule.  Those  whose 
intimacy  justified  the  liberty  told  him  gently  of  his 
error.  And  then,  in  duty  to  himself  and  to  his  faith, 
he  announced  that  he  himself  was  the  recipient  of 
this  visit, — that  when  in  doubt  whether  to  remain 
with  his  parish  or  devote  his  life  to  the  criminal 
classes,  Christ  in  person  had  appeared  before  him 
and  hastened  the  decision. 

This  confession,  instead  of  satisfying  his  friends, 
had  merely  convinced  them  that  he  himself,  and  not 
the  nameless  witness  was  the  innocent  victim  of  a 
delusion;  all  the  more  regrettable  because  of  his 
splendid  attainments  and  his  previous  sanity.  But 
in  this  case  as  with  many  others  the  believer's  ten 
acity — or  conviction — was  stronger  than  human 
argument.  And  he  yielded  not. 

His  knowledge  of  the  world,  however,  and  his 
broad  experience  soon  taught  him  that  to  persist 

173 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

meant  the  ruin  of  his  usefulness.  Nevertheless,  in 
private  when  the  occasion  justified,  when  those  in 
affliction  would  accept  this  consolation,  he  never 
hesitated  to  impart  it. 

For  this  compulsory  silence  there  were  compen 
sations  in  the  happiness  of  his  daughter.  It  was 
five  or  six  years  after  Captain  Chauncey's  death  that 
Bessie  for  the  second  time  ventured  forth  upon  the 
sands  of  matrimony.  But  between  Captain  Chaun- 
cey  and  Mr.  Robert  Fletcher  there  was  little  resem 
blance.  This  second  husband  possessed  but  a  single 
fault, — of  domestic  import, — and  even  that  was  not 
his  own.  It  was  the  nature  of  his  business.  Being 
a  civil  engineer,  his  absences  from  home  were  fre 
quent,  and  sometimes  of  long  duration.  These  very 
absences,  while  a  trial  to  the  wife,  were  a  gain  to 
Dr.  Thorne,  as  Bobbie,  the  marvellous,  unexampled 
grandchild,  became  in  such  emergencies  the  compan 
ion  of  his  grandfather.  Together  they  drove  and 
wralked  and  played;  they  visited  museums,  panora 
mas,  and  the  animals  in  the  park. 

One  eventful  afternoon  in  May,  as  they  turned 
the  corner  of  Fourth  Avenue  and  Twenty-sixth 
Street.  Bobbie  pulled  hard  upon  the  hand  that 
held  his  own,  and  brought  his  comrade  to  a 
halt. 

"Look!" 

174 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

There  was  excitement  in  his  voice,  and  he  pointed 
across  the  way. 

Dr.  Thorne  looked.  His  eyes  encountered  a 
colossal  pictorial  presentment,  in  vivid  colors,  of  the 
scene  within  the  building — as  youthful  hopes  would 
have  it. 

In  the  nearest  foreground  an  elephant  encircled 
with  his  trunk  a  Royal  Bengal  tiger,  and  pressed 
him  to  a  gory  death  against  his  tusks.  A  second 
tiger  lay  crushed  beneath  his  feet,  while  a  third  had 
sprung  upon  his  flanks  and  was  crawling  upward 
toward  the  undaunted  Orientals  in  the  gold  and 
crimson  howdah.  This  episode,  ignored  by  the 
other  figures  in  its  vicinity,  had  for  its  background 
an  entrancing  medley  of  lions  and  baby  elephants, 
of  clowns  and  Roman  races,  of  zebras,  hippopotami, 
and  giraffes;  of  spotted  ponies,  gigantic  anacondas, 
and  tutored  pigs,  all  apparently  on  terms  of  friendly 
intimacy.  The  air  above  was  palpitant  with  acro 
bats  in  dazzling  colors,  with  human  cannon-balls, 
and  maids  in  silken  nakedness,  wingless  but  serene. 

"  Grandpa,  do  they  do  all  those  things?  " 

Dr.  Thorne,  knowing  that  tigers  were  expensive, 
and  being  familiar  with  certain  laws  of  gravitation, 
hesitated  before  replying.  But  no  reply  was  needed 
— at  least  from  him. 

Beside  them  stood  a  group  of  ragamuffins,  three  of 
175 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

whom  were  even  younger  than  Bobbie.  The  fourth 
was  older, — nearly  seven,  perhaps. 

"  Say,  Patsey,"  said  one  of  the  diminutive,  "  it 
ain't  really  just  like  that,  o'  course." 

The  older  boy,  in  a  hoarse  voice,  and  in  pity  for 
the  ignorance  of  infancy,  replied  sententiously, — 

"  All  what's  in  that  picture  they  does.  And  more 
too." 

Bobbie  whispered  in  excitement: 

"Did  you  hear  that?" 

His  grandfather  nodded. 

After  another  glance  at  the  poster,  Bobbie  looked 
up  again  into  his  comrade's  face,  and  said,  in  sol 
emn  tones, — 

"  I  have  never  seen  a  circus." 

His  grandfather  winced.  If  the  boy  had  said, 
"  I  have  never  tasted  food,"  the  words  could  have 
brought  no  deeper  shame.  For  Dr.  Thorne  was  a 
human  grandfather.  He  had  not  only  been  a  boy 
himself,  but  he  remembered,  as  if  yesterday,  the 
delirium  of  his  own  first  circus. 

Bobbie  saw  his  advantage  and  followed  it  up. 

"Let's  go!" 

Dr.  Thorne  looked  away  and  tried  to  think.  He 
had  many  things  to  do  that  afternoon, — his  weekly 
visit  to  an  old  man  at  Avenue  A,  that  meeting  at 
the  hospital — - 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"Let's  go  now!"  cried  the  tempter.  "Yes!  oh, 
yes!  There  are  people  going  in!  Quick!  Let's 
hurry! " 

But  the  grandfather's  conscience  was  still  awake. 
No;  he  must  be  firm.  Another  day  would  do  as 
well.  His  duty  first. 

As  this  resolve  was  made  he  looked  down  upon 
the  upturned,  eager  face.  The  eyes  were  sparkling 
with  an  irrepressible  excitement;  also  they  seemed 
upon  the  verge  of  tears,  and  there  was  a  quivering 
of  the  under  lip. 

Five  minutes  later  a  big,  benevolent  face  with 
heavy  eyelids,  appeared  at  the  little  window  of  the 
ticket-office. 

"  Have  you  two  good  seats,  rather  near  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir;  the  best  in  the  house." 

And  the  agent,  in  violation  of  his  usual  custom, 
shoved  along  the  tickets  before  his  hand  was  on  the 
money. 

The  seats  were  certainly  good,  but  the  distin 
guished  clergyman  experienced  a  slight  annoyance 
at  finding  himself  in  the  front  row  of  the  front  box 
in  the  very  centre  of  the  building. 

Not  since  early  youth  had  he  seen  the  circus,  and 
now,  as  he  found  himself  once  again  beneath  the 
spell  of  sawdust  rings,  of  trumpeting  elephants,  and 
of  that  reckless,  rejuvenating  music  that  tosses  fluffy 

177 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

ladies  into  the  enchanted  air  from  horses'  backs,  he 
felt  a  quickening  of  the  blood,  a  revival  of  boyish 
interest.  And  Bobbie's  own  enthusiasm  was  in  it 
self  a  stimulant.  His  exclamations  of  delight  and 
wonder  were  so  frequent  and  inspiriting  that  Dr. 
Thorne,  without  realizing  it,  was  seeing  the  circus 
through  his  grandson's  eyes;  and  both  enjoyed  it  in 
a  proper  spirit.  The  performing  elephants,  the 
clowns,  "  The  Champion  Equestrian  Acts  by  Four 
Arenic  Queens,"  the  Japanese  balancers,  the  acro 
bats,  the  educated  donkey,  and  the  other  dazzling 
delights  were  fully  appreciated  by  the  boy  of  six 
and  by  his  comrade  of  sixty-nine. 

One  performance  proved  of  especial  interest.  A 
young  man  of  fine  physique,  accompanied  by  a  girl 
of  twenty  or  thereabouts, — she  also  in  tights,  but 
with  a  muslin  fluffiness  about  the  hips  and  a  yellow 
rose  in  her  hair, — were  swung  high  aloft  to  the 
flying-trapeze.  Upon  the  program  they  figured  as 
the  "  Electrifying  Bondinellis,  whose  Aerial  Flights 
at  Dizzy  Altitudes,  and  whose  hand  to  hand  Catches 
in  Space  are  the  Wonder  of  Two  Continents." 

And  the  program  in  this  case  did  not  exaggerate. 
During  these  aerial  flights  Dr.  Thorne  gazed  up 
ward  in  silence  fascination,  while  Bobbie,  in  the  in 
tensity  of  excitement,  forgot  to  breathe. 

This  young  man  and  girl  sailed  leisurely  through 


AND    CAUGHT   THE    OUTSTRETCHED     HANDS 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

space  with  the  easy  confidence  of  birds  upon  the 
wing.  When  they  had  attained  a  terrifying  impetus 
upon  a  high  trapeze,  he  let  go  his  hold  and  floated 
upward  and  away,  turned  over  in  the  air,  all  to  the 
dreamy  music  of  a  waltz,  and  caught,  with  careless 
ease,  an  approaching  bar  that  swung  to  meet  him. 
Then,  head  downward,  hanging  by  his  legs,  he 
swung  to  and  fro,  a  tremendous  distance. 

The  music  stopped,  and  the  girl  in  a  solemn 
silence  shot  away  from  her  own  trapeze. 

One  half-suppressed  scream  was  the  only  sound 
from  the  human  sea  below  them,  and  thousands  of 
straining  eyes  followed  the  flying  figure  in  its 
course.  And  then,  when  hope  seemed  lost,  when  the 
error  of  a  second's  time  meant  a  terrible  descent, 
the  strong  arms  of  the  living  pendulum  swung 
forth  to  meet  her  and  caught  the  outstretched 
hands. 

The  band  burst  forth  into  a  triumphant  air,  and 
the  vast  audience,  with  a  breath  of  relief,  broke  out 
into  a  vigorous  clapping. 

As  the  trapeze  swept  backwards  she  clambered 
to  the  bar,  and  there,  sitting  aloft  with  smiling 
faces,  this  empyrean  youth  and  maiden  tossed  to 
the  audience  beneath  those  volatile  kisses  we  receive 
only  from  circus-riders,  athletes,  and  the  ladies  of 
the  ballet. 

179 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

While  the  girl  returned  to  earth  by  a  rope,  the 
usual  way,  her  companion  climbed  higher  still,  to 
another  bar,  at  the  very  summit  of  the  arching  roof. 
There  he  stood  up,  and  jumped.  Head  foremost 
he  started  earthward,  and  half-way  down  he  turned 
over  twice,  not  nervously  or  in  haste,  but  leisurely, 
with  a  kind  of  bravado,  as  if  time,  space,  and  the 
laws  of  gravitation  were  unimportant  trifles.  With 
tremendous  force  he  landed  in  the  net  upon  his 
back  and  bounded  upward  over  a  dozen  feet.  The 
second  time  he  landed  on  his  legs,  clambered  to  the 
edge,  and  lowered  himself  jauntily  to  the  ground. 
Here  he  rejoined  the  girl.  Then  followed  more 
applause,  and  in  return  more  finger-tip  kisses  were 
tossed  to  the  audience,  which,  instead  of  being  far 
beneath,  now  towered  above  them. 

In  stepping  from  the  centre  of  the  arena,  this 
dauntless  couple,  to  avoid  a  flurry  of  incoming 
horses,  approached  within  fifty  feet  of  Dr.  Thorne. 
He  was  watching  them  closely,  indulging  in  a 
hasty  speculation  as  to  the  rare  mental  and  mus 
cular  outfit  demanded  in  so  hazardous  a  voca 
tion. 

The  youth,  after  carelessly  scanning,  as  he 
walked,  the  countless  throng  that  arose  in  tiers 
above  them,  met  the  gaze  that  was  fixed  intently 
upon  him.  Both  faces  brightened  with  a  sudden 

1 80 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

recognition.  Dr.  Thorne  straightened  up  and 
leaned  slightly  forward. 

Yes!  There  was  no  mistake.  The  honest  eyes 
of  Stephen  Wadsworth  were  smiling  back  at  him! 

And  there  was  little  change.  Fourteen  years 
had  simply  developed  without  altering  either  the 
contour  or  the  character  of  his  face.  But  in  the 
same  instant  he  was  gone,  obscured  with  his  com 
panion  in  a  confusion  of  advancing  horses. 


181 


X 

WHEN  Dr.  Thorne,  on  the  following  day, 
returned  home  for  his  noonday  meal, 
he  discovered  that  he  had  missed  a 
visit  from  the  newly  found  Stephen.  Knowing 
there  was  a  performance  every  afternoon  and 
evening,  and  as  he  himself  was  rarely  at  home 
in  the  morning,  he  resolved  to  call  at  the  circus. 
So,  about  three  o'clock  he  betook  himself  to  the 
Fourth  Avenue  end  of  the  colossal  building.  Seeing  , 
an  open  door  through  which  a  groom  with  two 
white  horses  had  just  emerged,  he  entered.  But 
a  man  stepped  before  him  with  the  information, 
politely  given,  that  no  strangers  were  admitted. 
The  visitor  explained  the  object  of  his  errand,  but 
was  told  the  rules  could  not  be  broken.  As  he 
took  a  card  from  his  pocket  to  write  a  line  for 
Stephen,  a  thin,  sallow,  black-bearded  man  stepped 
forward  and  raised  his  hat. 

"  Can   I   do  anything  for  you,   Dr.   Thorne  ? " 
Then,  in  answer  to  an  inquiring  look,  he  continued, 

"  You  do  not  remember  me,  Simeon  Bassett  ?  " 
182 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

"  Not  the  Reverend  Simeon  Bassett,  who  left 
for  India  to  convert  the  heathen  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir;  the  same." 

"  Well,"  said  Dr.  Thorne,  "  I  never  should  have 
known  you,  Mr.  Bassett.  You  have  grown  a  beard 
since  then.  But  isn't  it  a  long  jump  from  the  mis 
sionary  field  to  the  circus?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  an  easy  one.  I  found  there  was 
more  profit  and  more  peace  of  mind  in  reforming 
animals  than  in  wrestling  with  the  contented 
heathen." 

"  I  am  not  surprised." 

"  I  joined  a  company  to  furnish  wild  beasts  for 
menageries  and — well,  it's  a  long  story.  But  here 
I  am,  and  I  have  been  here  for  three  years." 

"  And  all  for  the  best,  I  have  no  doubt.  It  may 
be  hard  on  the  animals,  but  the  heathen  should  be 
grateful." 

Mr.  Bassett  smiled. 

"  Yes,  I  remember  you  said  something  like  that 
at  the  time.  But  I  was  younger  then,  and  bound 
to  go.  Some  of  us  are  slower  than  others  in  learn 
ing  to  respect  other  people's  opinions.  But  is  there 
anything  I  can  do  for  you  here?  Did  you  want  to 
come  in?" 

When  Dr.  Thorne  told  his  errand,  the  ex-mission 
ary,  who  appeared  to  be  a  person  in  authority,  led 

183 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

him  inside,  begged  him  to  make  himself  at  home,  to 
come  and  go  as  he  pleased,  and  to  remain  as  long  as 
necessary.  Then,  excusing  himself,  as  his  duties 
called  him  below  among  the  animals,  he  took  his 
leave. 

Dr.  Thorne,  as  he  glanced  about,  could  easily 
have  believed  himself  in  a  waiting-room  of  the 
Circus  Maximus,  twenty  centuries  ago.  The  space 
itself,  large,  irregular,  with  a  high  ceiling,  was  the 
area  enclosed  by  the  outer  corners  of  the  building 
and  the  long,  curving  wall  of  the  amphitheatre.  A 
high  archway  opened  into  the  arena.  Two  solid 
gates  closed  the  lower  portion,  but  above  these 
could  be  seen  the  audience  towering  tier  above  tier, 
the  countless  faces  bathed  in  a  soft,  warm  light 
diffused  by  the  canvas  awnings  high  above.  Music, 
laughter,  and  applause,  with  the  snapping  of  whips 
and  occasional  shouts  of  performers  were  distinctly 
heard,  while  around  him  on  every  side  moved 
figures  in  strange  attire, — athletes,  who  might  have 
been  gladiators  from  the  Colosseum;  two  drivers 
in  the  chariot  races,  whom  he  took  at  first  for 
Roman  matrons;  a  man  in  a  scarlet  tunic,  a  fillet 
about  his  head;  ladies  of  shimmering  limbs  and 
scant  attire,  at  home  on  the  bareback  horses;  clowns, 
acrobats,  and  others,  all  strolling  about  or  standing 
in  groups.  A  few,  encased  in  ample  wrappers, 

184 


Dr   Thome's  Idea 

always  of  the  most  vivid  colors,  moved  here  and 
there  as  in  the  Baths  of  Caracalla.  Some  were 
chatting  and  laughing,  others  practising  their  tricks 
or  limbering  their  muscles.  And  to  his  left,  drawn 
up  in  line  against  the  wall,  stood  Roman  chariots, 
one  of  crimson,  one  of  white,  and  one  of  yellow, 
all  with  golden  trimmings. 

As  he  moved  toward  the  arch,  he  was  startled 
by  an  unfamiliar  object  close  beside  him,  the  pretty 
face  of  a  girl,  "  The  Champion  Female  Contor 
tionist,  La  Belle  Zedora,"  in  tights,  her  supple  form 
bent  backward  in  a  circle ;  and  she  looked  pleasantly 
up  at  him  from  between  her  lavender  legs.  In 
mild  astonishment  he  halted  at  this  uncommon 
spectacle,  and  as  he  did  so  the  two  heavy  gates 
were  opened  wide. 

A  band  of  actors  for  the  high  trapeze,  some  jug 
glers,  and  a  bevy  of  clowns  skipped  out  and  away, 
and  a  pair  of  huge  white  horses  guided  by  a  man 
in  a  yellow  tunic  with  silver  bands,  a  foot  on  either 
steed,  dashed  out  into  the  arena.  He  was  followed 
by  another  rider  in  different  colors,  on  a  similar 
pair.  And  before  the  gates  were  closed  a  troop  of 
performers  came  running  in,  athletes  and  tumblers 
in  the  gayest  tints,  some  tight-rope  dancers,  and  a 
comic  family  in  evening  dress :  these,  closely  fol 
lowed  by  liveried  servants  of  the  circus  bearing 

185 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

three  gigantic  rolls  of  carpet  just  taken  from  the 
rings. 

These  rolls  of  carpet  were  deposited  near  the 
wall;  and  upon  one  of  them  Dr.  Thorne  found  a 
comfortable  seat  upon  which  to  wait  for  Stephen. 

Close  beside  him  a  clown  in  grotesquely  ample 
robes,  black  with  orange  stars  and  crescents,  as  he 
fondled  the  ears  of  the  educated  pig  was  arguing 
earnestly  with  "  Miss  Leonie  Latour,  the  Living 
Arrow."  A  short  distance  from  the  closed  gates, 
just  far  enough  away  to  see  above  them,  was 
gathered  a  group  of  acrobats,  some  in  pink,  others 
in  blue  or  white  or  lavender  tights,  watching  the 
performance  on  the  high  trapeze. 

A  flood  of  light,  and  it  seemed  to  Dr.  Thorne  a 
flood  of  music,  also,  came  down  through  the  arch 
and  enveloped  this  brilliant  company.  From  two 
or  three  came  a  muttered  "  Ah ! "  and  a  deep- 
chested,  solid  little  man,  in  creamy  tights  with  a 
waist-cloth  of  emerald  green,  added, — 

''  Yes,  and  he  missed  it  yesterday  too/' 

A  moment  later,  from  the  wild  haste  of  the  music 
and  the  shouts  beyond  the  gates,  the  visitor  knew 
that  the  four  white  horses  with  their  standing  riders 
were  having  a  tumultuous  finish  to  their  race 
around  the  long  arena. 

As  he  sat  watching  this  scene,  so  novel  that  it 
1 86 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

seemed  unreal,  he  partook  involuntarily  of  its  spirit, 
— of  its  freedom,  its  brilliant  colors,  and  its 
repressed  excitement.  The  music,  headlong,  up 
lifting,  and  incessant,  prevented  any  return  to  earth, 
and  dispelled,  for  a  time  at  least,  all  memories  of  his 
ordinary  life.  Even  the  errand  that  brought  him 
here  was  driven  to  the  background. 

Beside  the  long,  curving  wall  that  divided  this 
assembly-room  from  the  arena,  he  noticed  three 
figures  as  they  came  toward  him, — a  woman  in  a 
riding-habit  with  a  scarlet  jacket;  another  woman, 
slight,  with  delicate  features  and  dressed  in  black; 
and  between  them  a  girl  eneveloped  in  a  bright- 
colored  wrap,  such  as  many  of  the  circus  women 
throw  about  them  when  not  performing.  These 
wraps  were  long  and  loose,  completely  covering 
the  figure,  and  generally  of  a  brilliant  color. 

The  girl,  a  little  below  the  usual  height,  with 
black  hair  and  a  low  forehead,  had  a  wide,  short, 
juvenile  face.  Her  eyes  were  dark  and  far  apart. 
To  the  observant  philosopher  upon  the  roll  of  carpet 
it  was  an  attractive  face,  and  one  that  aroused  his 
interest.  She  seemed  Italian  or  Spanish — some 
thing  not  American.  But  as  they  came  nearer  he 
found  that  she  was  speaking  English  fluently  and 
without  the  slightest  accent.  At  the  present  mo 
ment  she  and  the  scarlet  equestrienne  were  laugh- 

187 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

ing  merrily,  while  the  older  woman  smiled  in  a  per 
functory  way,  more  from  a  sense  of  duty  than  from 
any  inward  pressure. 

It  seemed  to  Dr.  Thorne  he  had  seen  this  girl 
before.  A  moment  later  he  thought  he  recognized 
her  as  the  person  who  accompanied  Stephen  in  his 
celestial  excursions.  Regarding  her  more  carefully, 
he  began  to  be  sure  of  it.  There,  too,  was  the 
yellow  rose  in  her  hair  he  had  noticed  yesterday. 

As  they  came  nearer,  she  laid  a  hand  on  the  older 
woman's  arm,  and,  indicating  the  other  end  of  the 
carpet  upon  which  he  was  sitting,  said  in  a  pleasant 
voice, — 

"  Sit  there,  mamma,  and  don't  get  so  tired  as 
you  did  yesterday." 

In  doing  this,  the  front  of  the  yellow  wrap  was 
opened,  and  he  saw  that  she  was  in  tights. 

Nodding  his  massive  head  in  acquiescence,  Dr. 
Thorne  returned  the  smile  with  which  her  eyes  met 
his,  and  edged  farther  along.  By  a  movement  of 
the  head  and  another  smile,  simple  and  friendly, 
she  thanked  him;  then,  after  a  word  or  two  with 
her  mother,  she  and  her  companion  turned  away 
and  continued  their  walk. 

He  noticed,  as  he  studied  her  with  increasing  in 
terest,  that  her  eyes  were  continually  wandering 
toward  a  little  staircase  in  a  distant  corner.  This 

1 88 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

staircase,  he  decided,  from  occasional  male  per 
formers  who  descended  it,  led  to  the  men's  dressing- 
room  above.  Her  eyes  seemed  to  travel  in  that 
direction  of  their  own  accord,  and  he  believed  that 
she  would  have  been  exceedingly  surprised,  and 
perhaps  embarrassed,  had  she  known  that  a  casual 
observer  detected  the  eagerness  of  her  watch. 

Moreover,  this  casual  observer,  being  somewhat 
imaginative,  wove  a  little  romance. 

She  was  in  love  with  Stephen!  Of  course!  How 
could  it  be  otherwise  ?  When  a  girl  is  launched  into 
space  twice  a  day  with  Death  below,  and  invariably 
rescued  by  an  adoring  youth  who  never  fails  her 
what  other  result  could  be  expected?  And  he, 
cool,  brave,  with  arms  of  iron — and  always  there! 
She  knew — probably — that  he  would  rather  miss  a 
bar  himself  than  be  late  at  that  aerial  rendez 
vous. 

As  for  Stephen's  loving  her,  why,  the  cool  ob 
server  himself  was  gently  smitten,  and  merely  from 
sitting  here  and  watching  her. 

Belief  in  this  romance  of  his  own  construction 
was  strengthened  by  a  look  that  came  at  last  into 
the  heroine's  face.  As  her  glance  for  the  twentieth 
time  wandered  furtively  toward  the  stairs,  there 
came  a  sudden  brightening  of  the  eyes,  as  if  illu 
mined  by  a  welcome  message;  a  smile,  a  familiar 

189 


Dr   Thome's  Idea 

nod,  and  Dr.  Thorne,  turning  his  own  eyes  in  the 
same  direction,  saw  without  surprise  the  expected 
Stephen, 

The  young  man,  in  pink  tights,  a  dark  blue 
wrapper  tossed  carelessly  over  his  arm,  strode  with 
the  swinging,  half-clumsy  gait  of  the  professional 
athlete  toward  the  approaching  figures.  The 
promise  of  a  splendid  physique  given  in  his  boyhood 
by  the  compensating  Providence  had  been  faith 
fully  fulfilled.  His  straight,  full  neck,  deep  chest, 
and  muscular  limbs  gave  evidence  of  uncommon 
strength.  With  the  Acropolis  for  a  background,  he 
would  easily  have  passed  at  the  present  moment  for 
some  Olympian  hero.  His  face,  except  that  his 
chin  and  jaw  were  a  trifle  fuller,  seemed  but  little 
changed ;  and  with  his  greeting  to  his  friends  came 
the  same  frank,  friendly  smile  that  Dr.  Thorne  had 
first  encountered  in  the  little  cemetery,  fourteen 
years  ago,  that  Sunday  morning  when  they  shook 
hands  upon  a  bargain. 

As  the  three  were  standing  together, — the  scarlet 
equestrienne,  the  girl  in  her  yellow  wrap,  and  the 
athlete  in  his  shimmering  silken  tights, — the  pon 
derous  visitor,  a  sombre  contrast  in  his  every-day 
black,  approached  the  gorgeous  trio,  and  touched 
the  gladiator  upon  the  arm. 

"Stephen  Wadsworth?" 
190 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

The  young  man  turned.  His  face  lit  up,  and  he 
seized  the  extended  hand. 

"Why,  Dr.  Thorne!" 

Then  followed  expressions  of  surprise  and  pleas 
ure,  with  many  questions. 

The  two  women  backed  away  and  continued 
their  walk.  Dr.  Thorne  looked  earnestly  into  the 
clear  gray  eyes,  now  nearly  on  a  level  writh  his  own ; 
and  he  found  they  told  the  same  old  tale  of  purity 
and  truth,  of  child-like  confidence  and  incorruptible 
honor.  He  wondered  if  they  were  still  misleading, 
and  into  what  paths  of  vice  or  virtue  their  owner's 
peculiar  morals  had  caused  him  to  travel. 

"  And  now  tell  me  of  yourself,  Stephen.  You 
would  not  believe  me  if  I  should  say  how  often  I 
have  thought  of  you.  Have  you  been  a  good  boy  or 
a  bad  boy?  Tell  me  the  truth.  You  know  you  can 
trust  me." 

"  Indeed  I  do ! "  and  Stephen  began  a  rapid  his 
tory  of  his  career. 

But  the  whole  space  was  now  rilling  up  with 
mounted  huntsmen  in  top  hats  and  scarlet  coats, 
they  and  their  horses  crowding  every  one  against 
the  wall.  So  the  two  friends  walked  away  along 
by  the  wall,  and  Stephen  told  of  his  stealing  a  ride 
on  a  train,  and  of  his  joining  a  travelling  circus, 
three  days  after  leaving  Lynstock;  of  how  he  and 

191 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

two  other  boys  were  taught  somersaults,  the  high 
trapeze,  forming  pyramids,  and  various  things; 
that  he  did  this  for  four  or  five  years.  Then  for  a 
time  he  gave  up  the  circus,  but  took  it  up  again 
when  he  met  Filippa. 

"Filippa?    Who  is  that?" 

"  She  is  the  girl  I  act  with.  You  must  have  seen 
her.  She  was  talking  with  me  just  now." 

"  Indeed  I  did !  And  a  most  attractive  little  per 
son  !  How  long  have  you  known  her  ?  " 

"  Oh,  two  years,  about." 

"  Are  you — is  she — you  are  not  married  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

There  was  a  silence ;  Stephen  evidently  hesitating, 
but  with  something  to  impart.  Then,  as  they 
turned  about  to  return,  he  stopped  and  said 
earnestly, — 

"  I  want  to  marry  Filippa,  but  her  mother  won't 
let  us." 

"  Why  not?    Doesn't  she  like  you?  " 

"  No,  she  hates  me." 

"  Why  so,  Stephen?    What  have  you  done?" 

"  Nothing.  She  gives  no  reason,  only  says  she 
doesn't  trust  me." 

"Is  Filippa  willing?" 

"  Oh,  yes !    Filippa's  all  right !  " 

Their  eyes  met  and  both  smiled.  The  older  man 
192 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

saw,  in  the  younger  one's  face,  the  same  outward 
manifestation  of  an  inward  content  that  he  had 
observed  in  the  maiden  a  very  few  minutes  before. 

"  Well,  it's  too  bad  the  parent  is  unwilling.  Are 
you  sure  she  has  no  reason  for  it  ?  What  were  you 
doing  the  three  years  you  were  out  of  the  circus 
business  ?  " 

The  lover  hesitated. 

"  But  she  has  no  idea  of  what  I  was  doing  then." 

"  Very  likely,  but  what  were  you  doing?  " 

There  was  another  silence,  during  which  Stephen 
looked  down  and  picked  at  the  band  of  silver  lace 
about  his  wrist. 

"  Come,  tell  me !  Perhaps  I  may  help  you  in 
this  business.  I  certainly  will  if  I  can." 

The  youth  straightened  up  eagerly. 

"Perhaps  you  can!  You  might  bring  her 
round ! " 

"  But  I  must  first  know  the  man  I  am  to  bring 
her  round  to ;  "  and  the  big  brown  face  with  the 
half-closed  eyes  moved  slowly  with  a  negative 
shake. 

''Well,  sir,  if  you  remember,  you  made  me 
promise  that  I  would  never  steal  again.  It  was 
after  I  took  the  cook's  money." 

"  Yes,  I  remember." 

"  I  have  kept  that  promise.  I  have  never  stolen 
193 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

a  thing  since  that  day;  "  and  he  raised  his  face  with 
a  half-defiant  movement,  as  if  prepared  to  have  the 
statement  doubted. 

"  I  believe  you,  Stephen,"  was  the  quiet  answer. 

"  When  I  was  dead  broke  and  I  needed  money, 
I  fell  foul  of  an  old  pal  of  dad's  who  shoved  the 
queer — that  is — counterfeit  money." 

"  Yes,  I  know." 

"  He  made  it,  and  I  shoved  it.  But  it  wasn't 
stealing." 

"  No,  not  literally,  perhaps,  but  too  near  it  for 
moral  comfort.  You  took  what  didn't  belong  to 
you  every  time  you  passed  it." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  know  that,  but  I  had  big  tempta 
tions  to  break  my  promise  literally,  as  you  say.  I 
never  did,  though." 

Dr.  Thorne  laid  his  hand  on  Stephen's  shoulder. 

"  My  boy,"  he  said  gently,  "  I  am  not  blaming 
you,  for  I  can  guess  at  your  temptations.  I  "know 
the  obstacles  you  had  to  overcome,  and  your  regard 
for  your  promise  is  greatly  to  your  honor.  How 
long  is  it  since  you  have  '  shoved  the  queer '  ?  " 

"  Not  since  I  promised  Filippa." 

"  Ah !     Then  you  told  Filippa  everything  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  everything." 

"  And  still  she  is  willing  to  marry  you  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

194 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

"  And  that  temper, — have  you  outgrown  it  ?  " 

Stephen's  face  became  serious.  He  replied  in  a 
melancholy  tone  and  there  was  a  note  of  despair, — 

"  No ;  I  suppose  I  never  shall." 

Dr.  Thorne  looked  gravely  into  his  friend's  eyes. 
"  Have  you  told  her  that?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  The  whole  truth  about  it, — of  how  sudden,  un 
reliable,  and  dangerous  it  is?" 

"Yes,  everything." 

"  And  even  that  makes  no  difference  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  not  a  bit." 

Dr.  Thorne  compressed  his  lips  and  looked 
thoughtfully  away. 

"  How  foolish  women  are !  "  he  muttered. 

The  lover  smiled,  straightened  up,  and  folded 
his  arms  across  his  chest. 

"  But  I  am  just  as  foolish.  Nothing  could 
prevent  my  marrying  her,  either ! " 

"  Nothing  that  she  could  do,  however  bad?  " 

"  No,  sir;  nothing!  " 

His  companion  sighed.  "  Youth  and  faith, — 
what  splendid  things  they  are !  " 

As  they  started  on,  there  came  from  the  distant 
band  a  sudden  pause ;  then,  from  around  the  curving 
wall,  a  din  as  of  innumerable  hammers,  and  again 
burst  forth  the  music,  louder  and  faster  than  before. 

195 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  Stephen  and  I  are  very  old  friends,  and  are 
naturally  very  glad  to  meet  again." 

And  his  glance  went  from  mother  to  daughter 
with  a  smile  which  included  all  in  the  pleasure  of 
reunion.  Filippa  returned  his  smile  with  one  yet 
warmer  and  more  trusting. 

As  he  looked  down  into  the  wide,  short  face, 
and  into  the  eyes  that  met  his  own  with  a  simple 
confidence,  half  timidly  yet  without  embarrassment, 
he  tried  to  remember  what  familiar  picture  she  re 
called.  Was  it  some  Italian  portrait,  or  was  it  his 
photograph  of  a  contadina?  Or  that  woman  in 
yellow  by  Lucca  Giordano?  Or  could  it  be,  after 
all,  the  Sistine  Madonna?  However,  his  heart 
went  out  to  her,  this  cheerful,  acrobatic  inamorata 
of  his  newly  recovered  friend.  One  look  into  her 
face  left  little  doubt  of  an  affectionate  nature  and  a 
sunny  disposition.  When  she  smiled,  her  whole 
face  responded,  the  eyebrows  lifting  themselves 
further  from  the  eyes  and  taking  additional  curves. 
Her  mouth  was  not  large  in  repose,  but  expanded 
when  she  laughed  and  showed  two  rows  of  very 
white  and  even  teeth.  There  was  something  defer 
ential  in  her  manner,  which  at  the  same  time  gave 
the  impression  that  she  was  waiting  patiently  for 
an  excuse  for  mirth. 

Dr.  Thorne  became  soon  convinced  that  she  was 
198 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

a  frank,  reasonable,  high-minded  little  person,  and 
that  her  influence  over  Stephen  must  be  greatly  for 
his  good. 

In  figure  she  was  slight,  although  with  a  certain 
plumpness,  and  her  sloping  shoulders  were  well 
rounded.  He  observed  that  her  bare  arms,  when 
ever  they  appeared  from  beneath  the  yellow  wrap 
per,  were  also  plump. 

She  endeavored,  as  they  stood  talking  together, 
to  conceal  her  interest  in  the  admiring  Stephen;  and 
he  also  at  times,  as  is  the  habit  of  lovers,  overshot 
the  mark  and  made  clumsy,  transparent  efforts  to 
ignore  the  existence  of  the  being  who  was  of  more 
importance  to  him  than  sun,  earth,  air,  or  food. 
But  the  heavy-faced  visitor  saw  more  than  his 
friend  suspected.  He  observed  from  beneath  the 
slumbrous  eyelids  various  subtle  interchanges,  cer 
tain  contacts  of  elbows  prolonged  and  seemingly 
accidental,  and  occasional  postponed  avowals,  which 
he  knew  would  soon  be  uttered  on  the  high  trapeze. 

After  a  moment's  conversation,  and  when  the 
constraint  caused  by  an  ecclesiastical  presence  had 
been  dispelled,  Filippa,  with  her  head  a  trifle  on 
one  side,  and  with  a  thoughtful  expression, 
said, — 

"  If  you  knew  Stephen  fourteen  years  ago,  he 
must  have  been  a  little  boy." 

199 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  Stephen  and  I  are  very  old  friends,  and  are 
naturally  very  glad  to  meet  again." 

And  his  glance  went  from  mother  to  daughter 
with  a  smile  which  included  all  in  the  pleasure  of 
reunion.  Filippa  returned  his  smile  with  one  yet 
warmer  and  more  trusting. 

As  he  looked  down  into  the  wide,  short  face, 
and  into  the  eyes  that  met  his  own  with  a  simple 
confidence,  half  timidly  yet  without  embarrassment, 
he  tried  to  remember  what  familiar  picture  she  re 
called.  Was  it  some  Italian  portrait,  or  was  it  his 
photograph  of  a  contadina?  Or  that  woman  in 
yellow  by  Lucca  Giordano?  Or  could  it  be,  after 
all,  the  Sistine  Madonna?  However,  his  heart 
went  out  to  her,  this  cheerful,  acrobatic  inamorata 
of  his  newly  recovered  friend.  One  look  into  her 
face  left  little  doubt  of  an  affectionate  nature  and  a 
sunny  disposition.  When  she  smiled,  her  whole 
face  responded,  the  eyebrows  lifting  themselves 
further  from  the  eyes  and  taking  additional  curves. 
Her  mouth  was  not  large  in  repose,  but  expanded 
when  she  laughed  and  showed  two  rows  of  very 
white  and  even  teeth.  There  was  something  defer 
ential  in  her  manner,  which  at  the  same  time  gave 
the  impression  that  she  was  waiting  patiently  for 
an  excuse  for  mirth. 

Dr.  Thorne  became  soon  convinced  that  she  was 
198 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

a  frank,  reasonable,  high-minded  little  person,  and 
that  her  influence  over  Stephen  must  be  greatly  for 
his  good. 

In  figure  she  was  slight,  although  with  a  certain 
plumpness,  and  her  sloping  shoulders  were  well 
rounded.  He  observed  that  her  bare  arms,  when 
ever  they  appeared  from  beneath  the  yellow  wrap 
per,  were  also  plump. 

She  endeavored,  as  they  stood  talking  together, 
to  conceal  her  interest  in  the  admiring  Stephen ;  and 
he  also  at  times,  as  is  the  habit  of  lovers,  overshot 
the  mark  and  made  clumsy,  transparent  efforts  to 
ignore  the  existence  of  the  being  who  wras  of  more 
importance  to  him  than  sun,  earth,  air,  or  food. 
But  the  heavy-faced  visitor  saw  more  than  his 
friend  suspected.  He  observed  from  beneath  the 
slumbrous  eyelids  various  subtle  interchanges,  cer 
tain  contacts  of  elbows  prolonged  and  seemingly 
accidental,  and  occasional  postponed  avowals,  which 
he  knew  would  soon  be  uttered  on  the  high  trapeze. 

After  a  moment's  conversation,  and  when  the 
constraint  caused  by  an  ecclesiastical  presence  had 
been  dispelled,  Filippa,  with  her  head  a  trifle  on 
one  side,  and  with  a  thoughtful  expression, 
said, — 

"  If  you  knew  Stephen  fourteen  years  ago,  he 
must  have  been  a  little  boy." 

199 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

"  Yes,  he  was  a  boy,  but  not  so  very  little.  He 
was  eleven  years  old." 

"Was  he  an  interesting  boy?" 

"  Oh,  come,  Filippa !  What  a  silly  question !  " 
and  the  young  man  frowned  and  drew  back  a  step. 

"  Well,  yes,"  was  answered  in  a  serious  tone. 
'*  Yes,  he  was  interesting.  But,  of  course,  he  was 
bad.  All  boys  are  that/' 

"Washez^rybad?" 

"  Oh,  no !  And  it  was  a  good  kind  of  bad,  not 
a  bad  bad, — not  a  vicious  kind  of  badness.  And 
so  we  never  quarrelled,  and  we  had  perfect  con 
fidence  in  each  other." 

As  Filippa  turned  a  triumphant  glance  toward 
her  mother,  Stephen  nodded  assent,  but  added, — 

t(  There's  no  doubt  of  my  confidence  in  you,  sir, 
but  I  don't  see  how  you  could  have  had  much  in 
me." 

Dr.  Thorne,  looking  down  into  the  face  that 
suggested  so  many  Italian  resemblances,  now  up 
turned  with  the  warmest  interest  to  his  own,  said, — 

"  And  I  am  forced  to  admit  that  I  believe  his 
virtues  are  many  times  greater  than  his  faults." 

There  was  pleasure  in  Filippa's  eyes  as  these 
words  were  uttered,  and  she  turned  them  with  a 
childish  pride  upon  the  embarrassed  youth.  He 
thereupon,  with  a  little  color  in  his  face,  appeared 

200 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  his  knuckles.  She 
reached  forth  and  drew  this  hand  toward  her, 
straightening  out  the  little  finger.  Upon  it  was  a 
plain  gold  ring. 

"  Look  at  that,  Dr.  Thorne ! "  she  exclaimed. 
"  He  has  worn  this  ring  for  years,  and  now  he  can't 
get  it  off.  He  will  surely  have  trouble  with  it, 
won't  he?  Can't  you  persuade  him?  " 

"  Persuade  him !  I  will  resort  to  brute  force  if 
necessary.  What  is  it  you  wish  ?  " 

"  I  want  him  to  have  that  ring  taken  off.  His 
finger  is  in  a  horrid  condition.  Just  look  at  it! 
Don't  you  think  it  ought  to  come  off  ? " 

"  Certainly,  I  do.  The  flesh  is  inflamed.  What 
is  the  matter  with  it,  Stephen?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing !  I  scratched  my  ringer  the  other 
day,  that's  all,  and  the  ring  is  tight." 

"  Tight !  I  should  say  it  was !  Why,  it  is  almost 
out  of  sight !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Filippa,  "  and  it  is  getting  worse 
every  day!  He  has  a  silly  superstition  against 
removing  it.  Do  talk  to  him !  " 

"  Seriously,  Stephen,"  said  Dr.  Thorne,  looking 
closely  at  the  finger,  "  I  really  think  it  is  a  question 
of  having  either  the  ring  or  your  finger  taken  off. 
I  shouldn't  trifle  with  it,  if  I  were  you.  Why  do 
you  hesitate  ?  " 

201 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

Stephen  withdrew  the  hand,  and  answered  after 
a  silence, — 

"  My  father  gave  it  to  me  years  ago,  just  before 
I  turned  up  at  Lynstock,  and  told  me  never  to  take 
it  off.  I  have  only  done  it  once,  when  I  had  the 
ring  made  bigger;  and  this  little  scratch  I  thought 
would  heal  of  itself." 

"  But  you  can  have  the  ring  enlarged  and  put  on 
another  finger.  It  may  be  a  serious  matter  if 
neglected.  Take  my  advice  and  don't  trifle  with  it. 
Consult  a  doctor  if  you  are  in  doubt,  and  see  what 
he  says/' 

"  All  right,  sir;  I  will  attend  to  it." 

"  But  when?  "  asked  Filippa,  with  a  frown  and  a 
solemn  shake  of  the  head.  "  You  have  said  that 
before,  you  foolish  boy,  but  you  never  do  any 
thing." 

"  Attend  to  it  this  afternoon  after  the  perform 
ance,"  said  Dr.  Thome. 

Stephen  hesitated. 

"  Come,  give  me  your  hand,  and  promise  on 
your  honor  that  you  will  have  it  taken  off  to 
day." 

Stephen  laid  his  hand  in  the  extended  palm,  and 
replied, — 

"All  right,  sir;  I  promise." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Filippa,  looking  up  into  the 
202 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

clergyman's  face;  "I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  had 
saved  his  finger.  He  has  been  very  horrid  about 
it,  just  obstinate ;  "  and  with  a  reproving  look  she 
laid  a  very  small  fist  upon  Stephen's  chest.  From 
the  character  of  the  smile  with  which  the  trapezist 
looked  down  into  Filippa's  face,  the  visitor  sus 
pected  that  had  the  lovers  been  alone,  the  scene 
would  have  ended  with  less  formality. 

Stephen  evidently  felt  that  some  explanation  was 
required,  for  he  added, — 

"  I  don't  know  as  my  father  really  thought  the 
ring  could  bring  good  luck,  but  I  remember  dis 
tinctly  his  telling  me  never  to  take  it  off;  and  I 
wanted  to  do  as  he  said." 

"Which  is  a  good  sentiment,"  said  Dr.  Thorne; 
"  but  I  am  sure — " 

At  this  point  the  gates  beside  them  were  thrown 
wide  apart,  the  environing  space  again  was  flooded 
with  light  and  music,  and  the  acrobats,  clowns, 
Japanese  jugglers,  and  various  performers  who  had 
been  hovering  idly  about,  started  forth  into  the 
arena,  a  medley  of  brilliant  colors. 

Filippa,  with  a  slight  change  of  color, — for  ap 
pearing  in  her  own  limbs  at  close  quarters  before 
such  a  person  as  Dr.  Thorne  was  a  new  experience, 
— threw  off  the  yellow  wrap  and  gave  it  to  her 
mother;  Stephen  tossed  his  own  to  one  of  the  at- 

203 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

tendants;  then  both,  with  a  hasty  adieu,  joined  the 
glittering  throng  and  tripped  through  the  archway, 
out  into  the  glare  and  music. 

Dr.  Thorne  caught  a  sudden  glimpse — impres 
sive,  almost  unreal — of  countless  faces  rising  one 
above  another.  He  heard  the  cracking  of  whips 
and  the  clapping  of  hands;  then  dozens  of  horses 
with  riders  in  scarlet  coats — men,  women,  and  chil 
dren — came  clattering  through  the  opening  with  a 
tremendous  pounding  of  iron  shoes  upon  the  floor. 
The  gates  as  suddenly  closed,  and  again  there  was 
calmness.  And  again  the  visitor  admired  the  sys 
tem  and  the  quiet  order  which  governed  every 
detail  of  the  exhibition.  The  riders  dismounted, 
the  horses  were  led  below,  and  once  more  the  space 
before  the  Roman  chariots  was  comparatively 
vacant. 

Finding  himself  alone  beside  the  slender  woman 
in  black,  he  resolved  to  ascertain  the  real  state  of 
her  feelings  and  to  say  a  word  for  Stephen.  This 
second  resolve  was  not  sanctioned  by  his  conscience, 
as  he  felt  that  his  own  personal  liking  was  no 
equivalent  for  the  moral  deficiencies  of  his  friend, 
nor  a  reason  for  inducing  any  mother  to  select  him 
as  a  son-in-law.  No  one  knew  better  than  Dr. 
Thorne  that  Stephen,  while  of  interest  as  a  psy 
chological  study  and  the  possessor  of  admirable 

204 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

qualities,  was  not  a  suitor  to  meet  the  approval  of  a 
dutiful  parent. 

And  what  daughter,  not  blinded  by  love,  would 
put  her  trust  in  one  who  had  inherited  a  constitu 
tional  inability  to  discern  right  from  wrong,  with 
whom  morality,  as  an  abstract  force,  did  not  exist, 
and  whose  rage  was  not  only  entirely  beyond  his 
own  control  but  of  a  murderous  quality?  Yet  she 
existed,  and  he  believed  her  a  woman  not  only  of 
the  purest  character  but  of  fine  perceptions. 

Mrs.  Zabarelli,  slight  of  figure,  and  all  in  black, 
with  Filippa's  yellow  wrap  across  her  arm,  stood 
leaning  against  the  wall  as  one  who  finds  any  sup 
port  a  relief.  She  was  a  delicate  woman,  rather 
pretty;  and  as  Dr.  Thome  looked  down  into  the 
sensitive,  anxious  face,  he  divined  that  she  had 
known  less  of  joy  than  of  trouble,  and  that  excess 
of  caution  had  developed,  as  the  years  went  by,  into 
an  habitual  suspicion. 

"  Our  seats  seem  to  have  disappeared,  and  I  am 
afraid  you  are  tired,"  he  said.  "  Is  there  no  place 
you  can  sit  until  your  daughter  returns?" 

"Yes,  sir;  I  sometimes  sit  in  one  of  those 
chariots.  They  do  not  go  in  until  Filippa  comes 
out." 

And  she  looked  toward  the  nearest  chariot,  be 
side  which  stood  a  sumptuous  figure. 

205 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

If  Dr.  Thome  had  encountered  this  personage 
some  centuries  earlier,  he  might  have  taken  him  for 
a  Roman  general.  The  authorities  of  the  circus,  in 
selecting  the  costumes  of  their  charioteers,  had  ob 
viously  been  guided  more  by  an  eye  to  effect  than 
by  historical  accuracy.  A  fillet  of  yellow  ribbon 
about  his  head,  a  crimson  peplum  hanging  from 
the  shoulders,  a  chest  and  stomach  heavily  em 
bossed  in  gold,  were  the  impressive  accessories  to 
an  Irish  face. 

This  resplendent  individual  nodded  pleasantly  as 
they  approached. 

"  Good-day,  Mrs.  Zabarelli.  Are  ye  to  honor 
my  gig  to-day  by  a  sate  on  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Phelan,  if  you  are  willing." 

"Willing?     I  should  say!" 

And  with  the  end  of  the  crimson  peplum  he 
dusted  the  floor  of  his  classic  vehicle.  He  greeted 
Dr.  Thorne  by  bringing  a  finger  to  his  forehead  in 
a  salutation  that  suggested  both  the  barracks  and 
the  stable.  "  And  your  charming  daughter,  Mrs. 
Zabarelli,  in  another  minute  will  be  sailin'  through 
the  heavens  like  an  angel — as  she  is." 

With  a  cock  of  his  head  he  moved  away,  and 
remained  in  front  of  his  four  horses,  conversing 
with  a  lady  who  resembled  the  mother  of  the  Grac 
chi.  She  also  was  the  driver  of  a  chariot. 

206 


Dr   Thome's  Idea 

The  floor  of  the  cumbrous  vehicle  was  the  right 
height  for  a  comfortable  seat,  but  Mrs.  Zabarelli 
hesitated,  as  she  saw  no  place  for  her  companion. 
But  he  insisted ;  and  as  she  took  it,  his  eyes  fell  upon 
a  gaily  painted  tub  close  at  hand,  the  tub  upon  which 
the  baby  elephant  had  brought  shrieks  of  merri 
ment  from  countless  children.  This  he  rolled  a  little 
nearer  his  companion,  and  he  also  had  a  seat. 

"  Our  young  people  seem  rather  fond  of  each 
other,"  he  began,  coming  at  once  to  the  point,  as  he 
knew  the  time  was  limited  in  which  they  were  to 
be  alone. 

Into  Mrs.  Zabarelli's  face  came  a  troubled  ex 
pression. 

"  Yes,  they  are,  I  think." 

Then  a  pause.  Dr.  Thorne  was  diplomatic,  and 
he  knew  his  mission  to  be  delicate.  With  a  smile  he 
continued, — 

"  If  I  were  younger,  I  should  put  in  a  claim 
myself." 

She  tried  to  smile. 

"  Yes,  Filippa  is  a  good  girl ;  everything  in  the 
world  to  me." 

"  And  Stephen  is  a  manly  fellow." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  he  is." 

She  looked  down  and  smoothed  Filippa's  yellow 
cloak  as  it  lay  across  her  lap. 

207 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  And  improves  as  he  gets  older,'*  his  champion 
added. 

She  looked  up,  and  regarded  her  ponderous  vis 
a-vis  with  a  half -suspicious  air.  "  There  is  great 
room  for  improvement.'' 

"  You  refer  to  his  hasty  temper  ?  " 

"  It  is  more  than  hasty,"  she  said  with  animation; 
"  it  is  murderous.  He  almost  killed  a  man  here, 
not  two  months  ago !  " 

Turning  partly  about  and  indicating  one  of  the 
ring-masters,  a  heavy  muscular  man,  getting  some 
horses  into  line,  she  continued : 

"  Mr.  Wadsworth  struck  at  his  face,  and  Mr. 
Hacklander  warded  it  off;  but  a  second  blow  hit  him 
somewhere  below  the  heart,  I  think,  and  everybody 
thought  he  was  killed.  He  sank  to  the  floor  and 
could  hardly  breathe  for  some  minutes.  His  face 
was  like  chalk." 

Dr.  Thorne  closed  his  eyes  and  slowly  shook  his 
head. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that." 

With  a  solemn,  somewhat  terrified  expression,  she 
added, — 

"  And  that  may  happen  to  any  one,  to  his  best 
friends;  for  he  says  himself  it  comes  and  goes  be 
fore  he  realizes  what  has  happened." 

"  I  hoped  he  had  outgrown  those  attacks." 
208 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  Oh,  not  at  all !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  If  one  of 
those  blows  should  strike  his  wife,  or  any  woman, 
it  would  kill  her.  No,  I  should  be  a  bad  mother  to 
trust  my  daughter  in  such  hands/' 

"  Poor  Stephen !  I  cannot  express  to  you  how 
sorry  I  am  to  hear  this.  But  do  you  believe,  Mrs. 
Zabarelli,  that  he  would  ever  strike  a  woman,  and 
above  all  his  own  wife?  His  anger,  however 
violent,  would  certainly  stop  this  side  of  that." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  should  never  trust  him.  And  besides  his. 
temper,  his  eyes  are — well,  unpleasant." 

"  Unpleasant !  "  exclaimed  her  companion,  in  as 
tonishment.  "  Why  I  never  encountered  a  more 
honest  pair!  If  he  could  only  live  up  to  those  eyes 
he  would  be  too  immaculate  for  an  earthly  life !  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  know ;  and  that  I  suppose  is  partly 
what  makes  me  suspicious.  They  are  too  good. 
They  are  false,  and  they  fill  me  with  a  kind  of  ter 
ror.  It  may  be  some  horrid  association,"  and  she 
drew  her  hand  across  her  brow  as  if  to  recall  a  fu 
gitive  memory,  "  but  I  feel  there  is  danger  behind 
them.  I  can't  get  over  it,  and  I  know  it  is  not  en 
tirely  imagination." 

"  It  might  be.  People  have  often  been  power 
fully  influenced  by  fancied  resemblances — by  ideas 
that  have  proved  stronger  than  their  reason." 

209 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

"  But  there  is  something  more  than  that.  I  feel 
— but  I  can't  explain  it." 

Into  the  worn,  anxious  face  had  come  an  expres 
sion  of  dread,  and  the  lips  were  drawn  with  a  pain 
ful  intensity,  as  if  confronting  some  mysterious 
calamity.  While  Dr.  Thorne  sympathized  with 
what  he  could  not  help  regarding  as  a  purely  ner 
vous  condition,  he  felt  that,  in  this  particular  at 
least,  there  was  injustice  to  Stephen. 

During  the  silence  in  which  he  hesitated  for  a 
reply,  the  music  ceased,  and  he  knew  that  Filippa 
was  about  to  swing  off  into  space,  to  be  met  by  the 
dangerous  lover,  now  swooping  through  the 
heavens  like  a  retrieving  angel,  and  guided  by  the 
unerring  eyes  whose  truth  and  honor  were  being 
so  bitterly  denied. 

Mrs,  Zabarelli  also  knew  what  the  silence  meant. 
She  turned  her  head  to  one  side  and  closed  her 
eyes.  There  was  a  short  but  absolute  stillness,  then 
a  burst  of  music,  followed  by  a  clapping  of  in 
numerable  hands  telling  them  Filippa  was  again  in 
safety. 

With  a  gentle  smile,  as  their  eyes  met,  he  said, — 

"  The  false  eyes,  at  least,  are  faithful  to  Filippa." 

But  the  anxious  mother  was  of  too  serious  a  mind 
to  undertake  a  smile.  She  looked  down  and  re 
garded  her  own  hands,  which  lay  clasped  upon  the 

210 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

gaudy  garment  in  her  lap.  In  a  moment,  however, 
she  raised  her  face,  and,  bending  slightly  forward, 
said, — 

"  I  know  you  think  me  very  foolish  to  speak  as 
I  did  of  Stephen's  eyes,  but  it  is  no  fancy  of  mine 
and  no  prejudice.  It  is  very  real, — so  real  that 
sometimes  when  he  looks  at  me  for  a  moment,  I 
almost  remember  everything." 

Her  companion  made  no  answer,  and  she  con 
tinued  hastily,  as  she  knew  the  present  performance 
in  the  arena  was  now  over : 

"  I  would  not  do  him  an  injustice  for  the  world, 
as  he  is  very  good  to  us  in  many  ways.  He  insists 
upon  dividing  equally  with  Filippa  their  weekly 
salary,  when  he  of  course  does  much  more  than  she 
does.  He  really  loves  Filippa;  I  know  that,  but  I 
must  look  out  for  her.  No  one  should  blame  me  for 
objecting  to  such  a  match." 

"  Blame  you !  Certainly  not !  Your  first  thought 
is  naturally  for  your  daughter,  and  rightly  too. 
But  let  us  try  and  know  Stephen  better.  I  shall 
find  out  all  I  can  and  be  perfectly  honest  with  you." 

Both  arose  to  their  feet,  as  the  gates  had  opened 
for  the  returning  performers.  With  an  encourag 
ing  smile  he  held  out  his  hand.  "  Trust  in  me.  I 
am  an  old  hand  at  such  matters.  We  will  see  that 
no  harm  overtakes  Filippa." 

211 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

With  a  more  contented  expression  and  with  a 
word  of  thanks  she  laid  a  hand  in  his. 

Stephen  and  Filippa  came  running  through  the 
archway,  pursued  by  the  uplifting  music.  The  mel 
low  light  of  the  amphitheatre  behind  them,  the  vast 
audience  towering  high  on  every  side,  the  excited 
horses  and  their  gayly  colored  riders  dashing  madly 
about  the  arena,  were  all  far  more  impressive  than 
as  seen  from  the  auditorium  itself. 

Filippa,  whose  graceful  scantiness  of  costume 
suggested  a  spirit  from  more  ethereal  realms,  tripped 
lightly  toward  them;  and  the  yellow  wrapper,  out 
stretched  by  maternal  hands,  was  thrown  about  her 
shoulders.  The  rose,  which  the  visitor  now  saw 
to  be  of  paper,  had  become  unfastened,  and  was 
dangling  from  the  hair,  also  looser  and  disarranged 
since  its  owner  had  swung  head  downward  through 
the  air.  She  was  breathing  hard ;  and  as  she  shook 
hands  with  Dr.  Thorne  and  said  good-by,  he  saw 
in  her  eyes  an  exhilaration  and  content  not  produced 
by  exercise  alone. 

Was  love,  so  high  above  the  earth,  more  thrilling 
than  terrestrial  avowals? 

As  she  and  her  mother  moved  away, — the  black 
figure  and  the  yellow, — he  made  a  resolve  that  all 
that  lay  in  his  power  to  brighten  their  future  should 
be  done,  at  whatever  cost. 

212 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

He  turned  and  confronted  Stephen.  The  youth 
was  smiling  pleasantly  upon  him,  and  in  his  eyes  he 
saw  the  same  overflowing  contentment.  He  also 
was  breathing  rapidly,  as  well  he  might.  The  last 
twenty  minutes  had  been  spent  in  a  manner  to  test 
the  hardest  muscles  and  the  coolest  nerves.  The 
happy,  honest  eyes  moved  involuntarily  to  the  re 
treating  figures  with  a  tenderness  and  expectancy 
which  may  have  penetrated  the  yellow  robe  between 
Filippa's  shoulders;  for  she  gave  a  backward  look 
before  disappearing  around  the  curving  wall — and 
a  lingering,  significant  little  nod.  The  amiable  visi 
tor  concluded  that  this  manoeuvre,  from  the  manner 
of  its  execution,  was  of  regular  occurrence. 

Stephen  accompanied  his  friend  to  the  outer 
door,  and  readily  accepted  an  invitation  to  dine  with 
him  on  the  following  day,  which  was  Sunday.  A 
moment  later,  when  Dr.  Thorne  found  himself 
again  upon  the  sidewalk,  surrounded  by  the  com 
monplace  scenes  of  daily  life — men  with  trousers, 
women  whose  limbs  were  concealed  by  superfluous 
drapery, — and  all  the  matter-of-fact  dulness  of  prac 
tical  existence,  and  with  no  music,  he  felt  as  if  sud 
denly  awakened  from  a  dream.  There  was  also  a 
feeling  of  having  descended  at  a  single  step  from 
Imperial  Rome  to  Manhattan  Island. 


213 


XI 


AS  usual,  after  the  performance  that  night, 
Stephen,  with  Filippa  and  her  mother, 
left  the  circus  and  walked  through 

Twenty-seventh  Street  to  Third  Avenue.  This 
avenue,  with  its  many  lights,  where  all  the  world 
seemed  out-of-doors,  was,  like  many  other  New 
York  aevnues  on  a  summer  evening,  a  scene  of 
gayety  and  animation. 

As  the  three  travellers  stood  waiting  for  an  up 
town  car,  the  most  conspicuous  figure  of  the  group 
was  Stephen.  His  dark  blue  suit  and  colored  shirt, 
his  belt  and  russet  shoes,  were  all  in  the  prevailing 
summer  fashion.  And,  altogether,  with  his  truthful 
eyes  and  athletic  figure  he  produced  an  acceptable 
impression  of  health  and  youth  and  vigor — and  of 
surpassing  honesty. 

Filippa,  like  her  mother,  was  dressed  in  black, 
and  very  simply,  wearing  no  color  except  a  spot  of 
crimson  at  her  throat  and  another  in  her  hat. 

They  took  an  open  car.  Mrs.  Zabarelli  entered 
first,  followed  by  her  daughter,  the  young  man  last, 

214 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

keeping  the  outer  seat.  Mrs.  Zabarelli,  being  sus 
picious,  cast  occasional  glances  toward  her  daugh 
ter's  lap.  Filippa,  aware  of  these  suspicions,  folded 
her  plump  little  hands  before  her,  and  conversed 
gaily  upon  every  subject,  as  if  no  lover  were  in 
sight.  But  the  spirit  that  laughs  at  locksmiths  di 
rected  one  of  Stephen's  hands  to  the  nearest  arm, 
the  sleeve  of  which,  being  short  and  somewhat  open 
from  the  elbow  down,  seemed  to  favor  this  ma 
noeuvre.  So  during  their  journey — of  a  mile  or 
more — he  achieved  two  triumphs:  one,  the  circum 
vention  of  a  watchful  parent;  the  other,  the  main 
tenance  of  a  spiritual  intercourse  in  which  compres 
sions,  strokes,  and  taps  conveyed  subtle  and  multi 
tudinous  meanings.  A  general  statement  of  ordi 
nary  significance  when  accompanied  by  one  of  these 
secret  messages,  took  on  at  once  a  revivifying  in 
terest.  Moreover,  that  hilarious  little  current  that 
flies  from  lover  to  lover,  even  at  fingers'  contact, 
expanded,  in  a  case  like  this,  to  an  intoxicating 
revel. 

When  Filippa,  in  descending  from  the  car,  placed 
her  hand  in  Stephen's,  it  received  a  gentle  yet  em 
phatic  pressure, — a  tender,  melancholy,  yet  assuring 
grasp;  for  this  was  their  adieu  as  regarded  inter 
course  of  that  character,  both  believing  that  until  to 
morrow  afternoon,  on  the  high  trapeze  with  thou- 

215 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

sands  looking  on,  they — the  hands —  would  probably 
have  no  chance  for  meeting.  This  pressure  was 
affectionately  returned. 

Eastward,  toward  the  river,  Filippa  in  the  mid 
dle,  they  walked  along  the  quiet  street, — and  slowly, 
for  the  night  was  warm. 

Filippa  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  He  seems  a  very  nice  man,  your  friend  ?  " 

"What  friend?" 

"  The  big  clergyman  who  was  at  the  circus  this 
afternoon, — Mr.  Thorne, — so  kind  and  gentle." 

"  The  best  man  in  the  world !  "  said  Stephen. 
"  You  can  bet  on  him,  and  every  time.  He  was 
mighty  good  to  me, — took  me  right  into  the  family, 
like  his  own  son." 

"When  was  that?"     . 

"  Oh,  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  ago." 

"And  did  you  stay  there  long?" 

"  A  couple  of  months,  I  guess." 

"  Yes,"  said  Filippa,  reflectively.  "  I  remember 
your  telling  me  something  about  it.  But  if  he  was 
so  good  to  you,  why  did  you  leave  ?  " 

"  I  forget." 

Mrs.  Zabarelli's  ears,  as  Stephen  knew,  were  al 
ways  on  the  watch  for  something  to  his  injury,  and 
he  had  no  intention,  at  least  when  she  was  present, 
of  assisting  in  his  own  defeat.  Her  hostility  was 

216 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

open;  she  made  no  concealment  of  her  antipathy  for 
this  perilous  lover. 

"  Mamma  says  she  used  to  know  him." 

"  No,  I  didn't  say  that,"  said  her  mother.  "  I 
only  used  to  hear  him  preach  occasionally.  Hasn't 
he  some  odd  belief,  or  other  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Steve.  "  I  forget  about 
that." 

"  Something  about  Christ  not  being  dead  and 
still  going  about  the  earth?  " 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Stephen,  "I  remember.  That 
was  it,  I  think.  Some  folks  thought  he  was  a  crank, 
but  it  was  only  in  that  business.  He  isn't  any 
fool." 

"  Gracious,  I  should  say  not !  "  exclaimed  Filippa ; 
"  he  seems  awfully  wise." 

"  He  is,"  said  Stephen. 

The  last  house  in  the  block,  the  one  farthest  to 
the  east,  an  ordinary  three-story  dwelling,  was  pre 
cisely  like  its  score  of  neighbors,  except  in  its  pos 
session  of  windows  toward  the  river.  It  was  now  a 
boarding-house. 

"  I  am  afraid  you'll  find  the  hall  kinder  dark, 
Mrs.  Zabrelly,"  said  the  landlady,  who  was  stand 
ing  on  the  steps  for  a  breath  of  air  before  retiring. 
"  It's  after  eleven  o'clock,  and  I  thought  you  was 
home.  I  could  'a'  waited  just  as  well." 

217 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

"  Oh,  it  doesn't  matter.  We  know  the  stairs ;  " 
and  giving  the  key  to  Filippa,  she  remained  for  a 
few  words  with  Mrs.  MacFarlane,  while  the 
younger  people  entered  the  house  and  began  a  cau 
tious  ascent  of  the  unlighted  stairs.  Reaching  the 
third  and  steepest  flight,  Filippa  halted  on  the  sec 
ond  step. 

"  Sometimes  this  very  last  climb  is  really  too 
much." 

"Then  why  don't  you  take  the  elevator?"  de 
manded  Stephen,  so  close  behind  that  he  was  almost 
touching  her. 

Turning  partly  around  and  reaching  toward  his 
face,  hardly  visible  in  the  darkness,  she  took  hold  of 
his  chin. 

"What  nonsense  are  you  talking?  What  ele 
vator?" 

"  This  one." 

And  he  put  one  arm  behind  her  knees,  the  other 
across  her  back,  and  before  she  realized  his  pur 
pose,  swung  her  high  in  the  air,  as  lightly  as  if  she 
were  a  doll. 

"  Oh,  Stevey !  "  she  whispered,  "  put  me  down ! 
What  would  mamma  say?  " 

"  Nothing,  because  she'll  never  know." 

"  How  bad  you  are — and  how  strong !  " 

"  What's  the  use  of  owning  an  elevator  if  you 
218 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

never  use  it  ?  "  And  he  carried  her  to  the  final  land 
ing,  and  without  an  effort. 

"  Well,  here  we  are,"  she  said.  "  Now  let  me 
down." 

"  But  it's  fun  to  hold  you." 

"  No,  you  mustn't,  Stevey !  Besides,  mamma  will 
be  coming  in  a  minute." 

"  She  hasn't  started  yet." 

"  But  you  mustn't !    Now,  behave !  " 

"  If  you  were  in  my  place,  would  you  obey?" 

"Of  course  I  would!" 

Steve  laughed. 

"  Oh,  no,  you  wouldn't,  Filippa !  You  wouldn't 
be  such  a  fool.  You  wouldn't  drop  the  nicest  girl 
in  the  world  if  you  once  had  her  like  this." 

Although  too  dark  to  see  much,  he  knew  she  was 
smiling,  or  something  very  near  it.  As  her  face 
was  drawn  closer  to  his  own,  she  laid  a  protesting 
hand  across  his  mouth;  but  against  Stephen's 
strength  such  an  inconsiderable  affair  as  Filippa's 
hand  was  of  no  avail. 

Five  minutes  later,  when  Mrs.  Zabarelli  entered 
her  parlor,  she  found  Filippa  arranging  their  very 
simple  supper  upon  the  table,  while  the  bad  young- 
man  stood  innocently  by  the  open  window,  from 
which  he  overlooked  the  avenue  and  the  vacant  lot, 
and  could  see  across  the  river  to  Blackwell's  Island. 

219 


Dr  Thome's    Idea 

The  parlor  of  the  Zabarellis,  although  with  two 
windows  to  the  south  and  one  to  the  east,  would 
have  been  dingy  and  commonplace  except  for 
Filippa's  love  of  color,  inherited  in  all  its  fulness 
from  her  Neapolitan  father.  His  portrait  hung 
above  the  mantle.  Occasional  cushions,  scarfs,  and 
rugs  of  vivid  but  harmonious  colors  gave  life  and 
cheerfulness  to  an  apartment  whose  other  accessor 
ies  had  reached  a  shabby  senility. 

This  nightly  supper  was  a  compromise.  The 
young  people  after  their  evenings  at  the  circus  re 
quired  something  in  the  way  of  food,  and  during 
the  earlier  days  of  their  present  alliance  they  had 
taken  it  at  restaurants.  But  restaurant  suppers 
were  expensive,  and  the  Zabarellis  were  poor. 
Stephen  joyfully  played  the  host,  but  Mrs.  Zabarelli, 
unwilling  to  continue  placing  herself  under  obliga 
tions  to  one  whom  she  distrusted  and  opposed,  in 
sisted  upon  these  banquets  being  served  at  home, — 
at  least  her  own  proportion  of  them. 

One  of  Filippa's  ambitions  was  to  make  these 
little  reunions  enjoyable,  in  spite  of  her  mother's 
presence, — which  was  a  chilling  influence  to  over 
come, — and  to-night  the  little  chandelier  in  the  cen 
tre  of  the  room  above  the  supper  table  was  blazing 
at  its  full  capacity.  Its  full  capacity  was  but  four 
very  ordinary  burners,  and  the  feast  consisted 

220 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

merely  of  ham,  potato  salad,  bread,  butter,  and 
cheese,  with  two  bottles  of  lager  beer.  But  to  her 
self  and  Stephen  these  were  details  of  minor  import 
ance.  And  in  spite  of  the  inevitable  results  of  her 
mother's  open  hostility  to  the  guest,  they  always 
enjoyed  these  little  feasts.  To-night,  as  usual,  the 
meal  passed  cheerfully,  and  fulfilled  its  mission  of 
keeping  two  people  in  each  other's  presence  for  an 
additional  hour. 

As  they  arose  from  the  table,  Mrs.  Zabarelli  went 
into  the  other  room.  Filippa,  taking  one  of  Ste 
phen's  hands  in  both  her  own,  said  with  a  nod  of 
approval  as  she  examined  it, — 

"  You  are  a  good  little  boy  to  keep  your  promise. 
Your  finger  will  soon  be  well  again,  I  know." 

"  Very  likely.  But  what  do  you  think  was  inside 
the  ring?" 

"Was  it  hollow?" 

"  No,  I  mean  written  along  it,  on  the  under  side." 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  Some  inscription  from 
your  mother  to  your  father?  " 

"  Oh,  no !    More  mysterious  than  that." 

Filippa  with  increasing  interest,  as  if  approaching 
some  awful  secret,  whispered, — 

"  Not  from  some  other  lady  to  your  father !  " 

"  No;  but  you'd  never  guess.  See  for  yourself;  " 
and  from  a  pocket  he  brought  forth  the  ring,  now 

221 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

severed  and  drawn  wider  open,  and  he  laid  it  in  her 
hand.  She  held  it  to  the  light  and  studied  the  in 
scription. 

"  Why,  Stevey !  My  initials !  How  curious ! 
But  it  can't  be  possible !  "  Then  with  a  look  of  sus 
picion  she  took  a  backward  step  and  slowly  shook 
her  head.  "  How  simple  I  am !  But  it's  very  nice 
of  you  to  give  it  to  me.  And  it's  a  good  wish :  *  God 
Bless  the  Wearer/  You  did  fool  me,  though,  for  a 
minute.'* 

"  What  do  you  mean — fooling  you  ?  I'm  not 
fooling  you,  Filippa.  You  mean  I  had  it  written? 
No,  I  swear  I  didn't !  That  is  just  as  the  ring  has 
always  been  ever  since  I've  worn  it,  but  I  had  for 
gotten  all  about  that  writing.  But  I  was  goin'  to 
give  it  to  you  all  the  same,  as  soon  as  I  saw  those 
initials.  It  might  bring  you  good  luck.  I  wouldn't 
give  it  to  anybody  else,  though!  You  can  bet  on 
that!" 

"  I  believe  you,  Stevey ;  "  and  she  laid  a  hand  on 
his  arm,  looking  up  into  his  face  with  the  smile  that 
had  stirred  the  Italian  memories  of  Dr.  Thome  and 
brought  him  confusion  of  Madonnas.  This  smile 
— and  it  was  not  uncommon — was  unfailing  in  its 
effect  upon  Stephen;  creating  a  desire  for  heroic 
deeds, — deeds  requiring  strength  and  amazing  cour 
age,  or  some  gigantic  sacrifice,  to  prove  to  her,  once 

222 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

for    all    that    he    was    hers,    absolutely    and    for 
ever. 

He  took  her  gently  by  the  shoulders,  but  before 
proceeding  farther  turned  his  eyes  toward  the 
chamber.  It  was  well  he  did,  for  as  he  looked 
Mrs.  Zabarelli  was  coming  through  the  door 
way. 

"  What  do  you  think,  mother ! "  exclaimed 
Filippa,  holding  the  ring  toward  her.  "  What 
do  you  suppose  it  says  inside  this  ring  of  Ste 
phen's  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I  am  sure,"  was  indifferently  an 
swered,  with  a  glance  yet  more  indifferent  in  the  di 
rection  of  the  lover,  as  he  strolled  toward  the 
window  after  a  sudden  release  of  Filippa's  shoul 
ders. 

"  But,  really,  mother,  it's  most  extraordinary. 
It  has  my  initials,  and  they  have  been  there  all  these 
years." 

Her  mother,  with  feeble  interest  and  merely  to 
gratify  her  daughter,  took  the  ring,  adjusting  her 
glasses,  and  read  aloud  the  inscription, — "To 
F.  W.  Z.  God  bless  the  Wearer." 

'  Yes,  that's  very  curious,"  she  said,  in  a  manner, 
however,  that  was  disappointing  from  its  unconcern. 

"  But,  mother  dear,  don't  you  think  it  a  wonder 
ful  coincidence  that  somebody  else  should  have  my 

223 


Dr   Thome's    Idea 

initials,  which  are  so  unusual,  and  that  Steve  should 
be  wearing  them  all  these  years?  " 

Mrs.  Zabarelli  seemed  not  to  hear.  She  had  re 
moved  her  glasses  and  closed  her  eyes,  her  thoughts 
drawn  suddenly  into  the  past  by  this  once  familiar 
legend. 

Turning  about,  she  confronted  the  approaching 
Stephen.  He  halted  in  surprise  at  the  sudden 
change  in  her  expression.  The  careworn,  anxious 
face  was  now  ablaze  with  anger,  the  eyes  dilated 
from  an  unwonted  excitement,  obviously  beyond  her 
own  control.  So  swiftly  was  her  arm  extended  that 
he  took  a  backward  step  to  avoid  the  quivering 
finger  that  pointed  at  his  face. 

"  I  remember  you  now !  It  all  comes  back !  And 
those  honest  eyes !  For  years  I  have  been  trying  to 
place  them.  And  you  have  the  insolence,  the  brutal, 
brazen  insolence,  to  come  into  my  house.  Leave  it ! 
Leave  it,  and  never  enter  it  again !  Murderer,  rob 
ber!" 

The  color  left  Stephen's  face.  He  glanced  at 
Filippa,  who  seemed  bewildered  by  her  mother's 
language.  In  a  low  voice  he  asked : 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Mrs.  Zabarelli  ?  " 

"  What  do  I  mean !  You  know  even  better  than 
I  do  what  I  mean !  And  that  ring  with  its  inscrip 
tion  is  a  surprise  to  you !  " 

224 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

And  she  laughed;  but  the  laughter  was  in  irony, 
and  so  mirthless  and  unnatural  that  the  listeners 
thought  her  reason  was  affected. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  are  surprised !  And  /  was  sur 
prised  that  day  on  Staten  Island,  fourteen  years  ago, 
when  you  came  into  my  home  and  robbed  me  of  all 
I  owned.  And  my  child  and  I  have  been  in  poverty 


ever  since/' 


The  ring,  as  she  finished,  slid  from  her  trembling 
fingers,  and  rolled  into  the  obscurity  of  a  corner,  its 
mission  accomplished. 

"  But  really,  ma'am,  I  don't  know  what  you 
mean,"  said  Stephen  earnestly,  laying  a  hand  upon 
his  chest  as  in  protestation  of  his  innocence. 

More  calmly  she  answered,  but  with  bitter  con 
tempt, — 

"  Of  course  not !  But  the  denial  is  of  precious 
little  value  coming  from  a  man  who  can  rob  a  help 
less  woman,  and  kill  her  child  if  necessary  to  ac 
complish  his  purpose." 

Steve,  with  changing  color,  stared  intently  at 
Madame  Zabarelli  in  a  despairing  effort  to  under 
stand  her  words. 

"  Mother  dear,"  said  Filippa,  gently,  "  there  must 
be  some  mistake.  You  say  fourteen  years  ago,  and 
fourteen  years  ago  Steve  was  only  ten  years  old. 
And  this  robber  was  a  man,  wasn't  he  ?  " 

225 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

Her  mother  frowned,  as  in  a  confusing  mental 
struggle,  nervously  brushing  the  hair  from  her  tem 
ples. 

"  Don't  you  see,  mother  dear,  it  couldn't  be  Steve  ? 
It  was  some  entirely  different  person." 

"  Then  it  was  his  father !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Oh, 
I  shall  not  forget  that  face !  Nor  those  lying  eyes ! 
You  have  said  yourself  that  ring  was  given  you  by 
your  father.  No  child  of  mine  shall  associate  with 
the  son  of  such  a  parent.  Never!  never!  never!" 
she  repeated  with  increasing  emphasis.  Then,  re 
garding  him  with  an  infinite  scorn,  she  demanded, — 

"Is  that  clear?" 

Along  his  veins  and  through  the  tissues  of  his 
brain  throbbed  warnings  of  a  hovering  enemy,  his 
mother's  rage;  but  he  had  confidence  in  his  self- 
control. 

"  Filippa,"  he  said  gently,  "  of  course  you  don't 
want  to  go  against  your  mother,  but  you  wouldn't 
throw  me  over  entirely,  would  you  ?  " 

Before  her  daughter  could  reply,  Mrs.  Zabarelli 
again  spoke  out, — • 

"  As  my  whole  life  has  been  a  sacrifice  for 
Filippa,  I  do  not  expect  to  be  deserted  at  the  first 
call  of  a  stranger,  and  above  all  for  a  stranger  of 
your  antecedents !  " 

Filippa,  now  summoned  without  warning  to  make 
226 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

the  decision  of  her  life,  loving  each  and  willing  to 
make  any  sacrifice  of  herself  for  the  good  of  either, 
turned  entreatingly  toward  her  mother.  With  both 
hands  upon  her  arm,  she  began  to  speak. 

But  Mrs.  Zabarelli  was  not  a  woman  to  relin 
quish  victory  when  once  achieved.  She  drew  away 
her  arm,  and,  ignoring  Filippa,  stepped  nearer 
Stephen. 

"  That  ring  your  father  took  from  Filippa  when 
he  entered  my  house  and  robbed  me,  with  a  loaded 
pistol,  of  all  the  money  I  possessed.  I  have  found 
since  that  he  was  a  professional  thief  and  murderer, 
a  sharper,  a  blackleg,  a  common  criminal,  with  no 
pretensions  to  decency  or  honor.  And  you,  the  im 
age  of  him,  his  own  true  son  in  soul  and  body,  I 
have  seen  through  ever  since  you  joined  us.  Your 
lying  eyes  have  never  fooled  me.  And  your  brutal, 
murdering  temper  is  the  temper  of  a — " 

But  Stephen  heard  no  more,  and  he  heard  but 
dimly  the  last  few  words  as  they  rent  the  barriers 
of  his  rage.  A  flood  of  fury,  hot,  blinding  and  re 
sistless,  surged  like  a  bursting  torrent  through  his 
brain.  His  eyes  saw,  but  they  told  him  nothing. 
They  only  showed  him  the  hostile  face  before  him, 
and  he  struck  madly  out.  It  was  a  blow  to  kill,  if 
kill  he  could. 

At  the  transformation  in  his  face  Filippa  flung 
227 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

herself  before  her  mother.  Upon  her  upturned 
chin  she  met  his  fist,  then  sank  upon  the  carpet, 
limp  and  motionless. 

The  arm  drew  back  for  another  blow,  but  as  he 
advanced  to  launch  it,  striking  with  his  foot  the 
form  upon  the  floor,  the  wildfire  flickered  in  his 
brain,  then  died  away  as  suddenly  as  it  came.  He 
stopped,  staggered  backwards,  and  drew  a  hand 
across  his  eyes  as  if  to  hasten  his  returning  reason. 
The  mother's  terror-stricken  eyes  moved  from 
Stephen  to  the  figure  at  her  feet;  she  stooped,  and 
with  her  feeble  strength  endeavored  to  raise  her 
daughter  from  the  floor. 

To  his  horror  Steve  saw  Filippa's  head  sink  back, 
an  unresponsive  weight.  Her  face,  except  the  pur 
ple  bruise  upon  her  chin,  had  a  lifeless  pallor.  Be 
side  her,  upon  his  knees,  he  also  dropped,  exclaim 
ing  in  a  voice  of  agony, — 

"  Oh,  my  God !  my  God !  " 

"  Take  her  to  the  bed/'  said  Mrs.  Zabarelli,  for 
getting  all  except  her  daughter's  danger. 

Carefully  he  rose  to  his  feet,  the  burden  in  his 
arms;  and  as  he  followed  Mrs.  Zabarelli  into  the 
chamber,  he  turned  the  girl's  cheek  against  his  own 
and  muttered  an  incoherent  appeal.  Gently  upon 
the  bed  he  laid  her,  while  the  mother's  hands  ar 
ranged  a  pillow. 

228 


Dr   Thome's    Idea 

"  Now  run  for  a  doctor ! "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Quick !  quick,  and  don't  lose  a  second !  " 

He  was  off,  as  the  words  were  uttered,  down 
the  dark  stairs  in  reckless  leaps,  out  into  the 
silent  street,  leaving  the  door  wide  open  behind 
him. 

He  remembered  a  doctor's  sign  half-way  along 
the  block,  and  up  the  steps  of  that  house  he  sprang 
and  pulled  the  bell.  All  the  inmates  were  abed, 
for  it  was  after  midnight.  He  rang  again  and 
again,  and  it  seemed  hours  before  the  door  was 
opened. 

"  I  want  to  see  the  doctor,  quick !  " 

"  Dr.  Hasselmann  is  out." 

"  Out !    How  soon  will  he  be  back  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  might  return  in  ten  minutes  and  it  might 
not  be  for  an  hour  or  two." 

"  Isn't  there  another  doctor  near?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  at  No.  65,  about  the  middle  of  the 
next  block." 

In  another  minute  Stephen  was  ringing  the  bell 
at  No.  65,  and  with  better  luck. 

This  doctor,  an  elderly,  gray-haired  man,  hur 
ried  on  under  the  young  man's  guidance,  asking 
certain  questions  concerning  the  nature  of  the  acci 
dent.  Steve  told  him  all,  only  omitting  that  the 
"  accidental  blow "  had  been  aimed  at  another 

229 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

woman.  Up  the  dark  stairs  he  led  the  way,  and 
when  they  entered  the  Zabarelli  parlor  the  physi 
cian  was  somewhat  out  of  breath. 

He  passed  at  once  to  the  chamber,  and  bent  over 
Filippa. 

When  he  looked  up,  first  at  the  mother  and  then 
at  Stephen,  his  kind,  serious  face  told  them,  before 
a  word  was  uttered,  that  all  was  over.  He  said 
something  about  death  having  been  instantaneous, 
and  spoke  of  concussion  of  the  brain.  Mrs.  Zaba 
relli,  who  had  suspected  the  truth,  seemed  dazed  by 
grief.  Mechanically  she  seated  herself  in  a  little 
chair  by  the  bed,  and  began  to  rock. 

With  dry  lips  and  a  husky  voice  Steve  asked  if 
nothing  could  be  done,  if  there  was  no  possibility 
of  this  condition  being  only  temporary. 

"  Surely  there  must  be  some  way  to  bring  her 
back,  doctor !  "  he  whispered.  "  You  don't  mean 
she's  dead — gone  forever !  " 

The  man  of  science  laid  a  hand  gently  upon  his 
shoulder. 

"  Yes,  but  nothing  could  have  been  done  to  save 
her.  Life  was,  perhaps,  extinct  before  you  left  the 
house." 

And  with  a  few  words  to  the  mother  he  de 
parted. 

Long  afterwards  Stephen,  as  in  a  hideous  trance, 
230 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

stood  motionless  by  Filippa's  bed.     He  shed  no 
tears.     There  were  no  outward  signs  of  grief. 

At  last,  turning  slowly  about,  he  walked  into  the 
parlor.  For  completer  solitude  he  turned  out  the 
gas,  and  threw  himself  upon  the  floor,  his  face 
buried  in  his  hands. 


231 


XII 

WHEN  Stephen  raised  his  head,  a  faintt 
cold   light   had   crept   into    the    room. 
He  shuddered,  for  the  light  of  day  was 
not  for  such  as  he.     There  were  things  too  cowardly 
and  too  vile  to  face  the  glare  of  heaven.     Climb 
ing  slowly   to   his    feet,   he   approached   the  open 
window. 

With  a  kind  of  terror  he  regarded  the  colorless 
radiance  in  the  east  spreading  slowly  upward  into 
the  starlit  sky.  It  seemed  to  his  shrinking  gaze  like 
something  sent  to  hunt  him;  something  that  would 
overtake  him  if  he  lingered.  Pure  and  calm,  it 
flickered  along  the  surface  of  the  river,  and  the 
river  brought  a  welcome  thought.  Beneath  the 
waters  there  was  peace.  No  lingering  here,  no 
sacrifice  within  his  power,  could  bring  back  Filippa, 
or  palliate  the  unutterable  crime.  But  there,  at  least, 
was  oblivion. 

For  a  last  look  upon  what  had  been  dearer  to  him 
than  all  the  world — for  whose  life  he  would  cheer 
fully  have  given  up  his  own — he  moved  toward  the 

232 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

chamber.  But  in  the  doorway,  as  his  eyes  encoun 
tered  Mrs.  Zabarelli  gently  rocking,  just  as  he  had 
left  her  long  hours  ago,  he  halted.  Was  her  reason 
gone  ?  Had  he  killed  two  women  with  a  single 
blow?  When  he  stood  before  her  and  spoke  her 
name,  she  ceased  rocking  and  looked  up,  But  in 
her  face  came  no  look  of  recognition.  After  a 
questioning  glance  she  lowered  her  eyes  and  con 
tinued  rocking. 

Mechanically  he  turned  out  the  light.  Moving  to 
the  foot  of  the  bed,  he  looked  down  on  the  silent 
figure,  now  doubly  solemn  in  the  ghostly  light  that 
entered  from  the  eastern  windows. 

There  seemed  in  this  frigid  radiance,  as  it  lay 
upon  Filippa's  face,  something  spiritual  and  un 
earthly,  as  from  another  world.  Standing  at  her 
feet,  he  recalled,  with  another  pang  of  remorse — • 
such  as  had  been  burning  into  his  brain  through 
the  hours  of  night — her  unwavering  confidence  in 
himself,  her  readiness  to  swing  from  any  height 
if  only  he  were  there  to  catch  her,  her  persistence  in 
taking  upon  herself  all  blame  when  it  would  place 
him  in  a  better  light  before  her  mother,  her  cheer 
fulness,  her  loyalty,  and  her  courage.  And  before 
his  dry,  hot  eyes,  the  bed,  the  woman  rocking  by  its 
side,  and  the  room  itself  began  slowly  to  revolve 
in  widening,  swifter  circles.  His  brain  also  seemed 

233 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

to  float  away.  Staggering  backwards,  he  sank  into 
a  chair. 

But  the  dizziness  soon  passed.  Dropping  upon 
his  knees  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  he  bent  forward 
and  reverently  touched  his  lips  to  the  sole  of  one  of 
Filippa's  shoes.  Then  he  climbed  to  his  feet,  and 
after  a  parting  look  at  the  stricken  mother  still 
rocking  to  and  fro,  unconscious  of  his  presence,  he 
turned  and  left  the  room. 

Down  the  dark  stairs,  out  into  the  street,  where 
the  lights  from  lamp-posts  glimmered  yellow  and 
useless  in  the  advancing  dawn,  he  kept  his  course 
with  outward  calmness. 

Nearing  the  avenue,  he  halted  in  surprise  as  he 
recognized  an  approaching  figure.  Too  well  he 
knew  the  walk  and  the  ponderous,  familiar  form  to 
be  mistaken.  He  also  knew  that  Dr.  Thorne 
must  be  returning  from  some  errand  of  mercy, 
and  instinctively  he  contrasted  it  with  his  own 
black  deed.  His  first  impulse  was  to  cross  the 
street;  but  his  old  friend  had  already  recognized 
him. 

"Why,  Stephen,  what's  the  matter?" 

The  tone  of  alarm  was  involuntary,  as  the  face 
before  him  was  that  of  an  older  man  than  the 
Stephen  Wadsworth  of  the  afternoon  before.  Dark 
hollows  beneath  the  eyes;  a  tension  of  the  lips,  the 

234 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

pallor,  and  the  whole  expression  told  plainly  of  a 
conquering  sorrow. 

The  murderer  shrank  within  himself  as  he  en 
countered  the  anxious,  friendly  scrutiny.  Even  the 
voice  was  not  his  own  in  which  he  answered, — 

"  An  accident  to  Filippa." 

"  Oh,  I  am  sorry — sorry !  What  is  it  ?  How  did 
it  happen?  " 

Stephen  looked  away,  but  his  face  told  the  in 
ward  agony  which  choked  his  speech. 

"Is  there  nothing  I  can  do?"  continued  his 
friend.  "  Cannot  I  go  there,  and  be  of  service  ?  " 

"  Will  you?  "  exclaimed  Stephen.  "  Will  you  go 
there  ?  "  and  he  pointed  to  the  house.  "  That  first 
door  on  the  right ;  it  is  open.  They  are  at  the  very 
top,  on  the  front.  Will  you  really  go  there  ?  " 

"Certainty,  of  course  I  will!  And  you  return 
soon,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

They  parted,  and  Stephen  felt,  as  from  a  knife,  a 
sharp  regret  that  his  final  word  to  such  a  friend 
should  be  a  lie.  But  what  mattered  a  lie  after  a 
deed  like  his!  When  Dr.  Thorne  should  find 
Filippa  had  been  murdered,  and  by  him,  his  con 
tempt  and  loathing  would  be  far  beyond  the  influ 
ence  of  lies — or  of  all  ordinary  human  sins. 

With  heavy,  unobservant  eyes,  and  lips  com- 
235 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

pressed,  he  strode  across  the  vacant  lot  toward  the 
wharf.  This  piece  of  ground,  between  the  Avenue 
and  the  East  River,  about  the  size  of  an  average 
city  block,  was  of  uneven  surface,  and  at  present 
served  merely  as  a  playground  for  the  children  of 
the  neighborhood.  He  followed  the  wagon  track 
that  led  across  it  to  the  wharf. 

Reaching  out  into  the  river  about  an  hundred 
feet,  this  wharf,  but  little  used,  bore  a  deserted, 
somewhat  melancholy  aspect.  Alongside  lay  a  soli 
tary  craft,  a  heavy  schooner,  close  against  the  land. 
Her  cargo  of  paving-stones,  partially  unloaded,  was 
scattered  along  the  pier. 

Out  upon  the  wharf,  about  a  third  its  length,  he 
had  walked  with  firm  and  even  steps,  when  he 
stopped  and  turned  about.  The  sleeping  city  be 
fore  him  showed  no  signs  of  life,  save  the  steam 
and  rattle  from  a  distant  train  upon  the  elevated 
road,  and  a  mail-wagon  as  it  disappeared  around  a 
neighboring  corner. 

In  the  slowly  brightening  sky  above  the  window 
of  the  room  in  which  Filippa  lay,  a  group  of  stars 
still  glittered  through  the  spreading  light.  The 
window  was  open,  as  he  had  left  it.  With  his  eyes 
upon  this  window,  he  moved  his  lips  responsive  to 
something  in  his  soul  akin  to  prayer ;  but  the  prayer 
was  not  for  himself.  He  closed  his  eyes,  raised  his 

236 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

face  toward  the  sky,  and  drew  a  long,  deep  breath 
which  ended  in  a  gasp. 

As  he  turned  about  and  took  a  forward  step 
along  the  wharf,  he  halted  in  surprise  as  seeing  the 
figure  of  a  man  not  a  dozen  feet  away.  He  opened 
wide  his  eyes,  then  closed  them,  believing  it  a  vision 
of  his  feverish  brain.  One  moment  ago  no  human 
being  was  in  sight. 

The  figure  approached,  and  even  now,  in  the  un 
certain  light,  he  half  doubted  its  reality.  To  his 
weary  eyes  it  mysteriously  blended  with  the  radi 
ance  behind,  the  expanding,  many-tinted  splendor 
announcing  the  dawn  of  day. 

Coming  close  to  Stephen,  the  man  stood  before 
him.  He  was  young,  but  little  over  thirty,  and 
tall,  with  a  slight  stoop  about  the  shoulders.  From 
his  simple,  somewhat  ordinary  clothes,  Stephen 
judged  him  to  be  a  master  mechanic, — a  mason  per 
haps,  or  a  carpenter.  But  the  face  was  less  usual. 
The  features  were  regular,  the  eyes  a  dark  blue,  and 
singularly  gentle  and  expressive.  A  brown  beard 
grew  in  two  points  from  the  chin. 

Reaching  forth  a  hand,  he  rested  it  on  the  mur 
derer's  shoulder, — 

"  Life  is  yet  before  you,  Stephen.  You  have 
made  a  good  fight,  but  your  burden  was  beyond 
your  strength." 

237 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

And  as  the  compassionate  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
his  own,  Steve  experienced  a  new  sensation. 

It  might  have  been  a  form  of  personal  magnet 
ism,  or  mayhap  this  stranger  possessed  the  power 
of  imparting  to  those  with  whom  he  came  in  con 
tact  a  portion  of  his  own  nature;  but  whatever  the 
cause,  Steve  realized  within  himself  the  birth  of  a 
new  hope,  of  a  new  and  different  kind  of  courage. 
Moreover,  he  was  indefinably  impressed  by  some 
thing  in  the  expression,  and  in  the  voice  and  man 
ner,  of  this  unexpected  friend;  by  a  certain  gentle 
ness  and  thoughtful  gravity  that  suggested  a  wider 
experience  than  his  apparent  age  would  justify. 

Such  was  his  influence,  that  Stephen,  after  a  very 
few  words  of  encouragement,  was  walking  by  his 
side  across  the  vacant  lot,  then  along  the  street 
toward  the  Zabarellis. 

The  stranger  entered  the  house  as  if  familiar  with 
it  and  mounted  to  the  upper  floor. 

Without  knocking  he  turned  the  knob  of  Mrs. 
Zabarelli's  parlor,  and  went  in.  His  hat,  of  soft 
black  felt,  of  common  shape,  he  laid  upon  a  table 
near  the  door.  Stephen  followed,  close  behind ;  and 
he  noticed  that  Dr.  Thorne,  who  was  talking  with 
Mrs.  Zabarelli  near  the  window,  took  a  step  or  two 
forward  when  he  saw  the  stranger,  a  look  of  pleas 
ure  and  recognition  upon  his  face.  His  greeting 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

was  returned,  which  caused  Stephen  to  believe  that 
they  already  knew  each  other.  And  it  also  ap 
peared,  from  the  deference  with  which  Dr.  Thorne 
addressed  him — Dr.  Thorne  being  much  the  older 
of  the  two — that  he  might  be  a  person  of  more  im 
portance  than  his  attire  betrayed.  But  he  lingered 
for  a  moment  only,  then  passed  on  into  the  cham 
ber. 

The  others  followed.  The  little  chamber  was  all 
aglow  with  rosy  light,  from  the  crimson  sun  just 
showing  above  the  trees  beyond  the  river.  And  on 
the  opposite  wall  stood  purple  shadows  of  the  anx 
ious  group. 

"  Is  there  any  hope  ?  "  demanded  Mrs.  Zabarelli 
in  a  tremulous  voice,  with  an  appealing  glance  to 
the  stranger.  "  Can  you  do  anything  for  her,  doc 
tor?  Oh,  it's  too  late!  too  late!  I  know  it's  too 
late!" 

Making  no  reply,  but  seating  himself  upon  the 
bed  beside  Filippa,  he  drew  a  hand  across  her  fore 
head,  gently,  as  if  smoothing  her  hair,  and  uttered, 
in  a  low  voice,  words  not  understood  by  those  about 
him. 

So  great  was  Stephen's  confidence  in  this  man, 
strengthened  by  the  knowledge  that  certain  trances 
had  frequently  been  mistaken  for  death  itself,  that 
he  was  not  amazed  by  what  now  occurred. 

239 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

The  color  came  creeping  back  into  Filippa's  face  ; 
her  bosom  rose,  responsive  to  a  long,  deep  breath, 
as  if  awakening  from  a  sleep;  her  eyelids  moved, 
then  slowly  opened,  and  she  looked  about. 

Blinking,  as  one  not  fully  awake,  she  looked  up 
at  the  face  above  her,  now  illumined  by  the  light 
through  the  eastern  window — a  rosy,  supernal  light 
that  seemed  to  enfold  him  with  a  glorifying  touch. 

"  Why,  what  has  happened  ?  " 

Then,  with  a  glance  at  those  about,  she  added,— 

"  Oh  yes,  I  remember !  " 

And  seeking  Stephen  with  her  eyes,  she  filled  his 
soul  with  an  infinite  joy.  The  look  was  a  message 
that  told  of  more  than  forgiveness.  In  the  flood  of 
feelings  that  overwhelmed  him,  his  face,  haggard 
and  sensitive,  spoke  plainly  of  his  gratitude.  And 
then  it  was  that  his  eyes  met  those  of  the  stranger, 
who  smiled — a  simple,  brotherly  smile,  so  express 
ive  of  fellow  feeling  and  encouragement  that  it 
created  in  Stephen  a  warmer  sentiment  toward 
him;  a  sudden  affection  hitherto  forbidden,  prob 
ably  without  intent,  by  the  man's  gravity  and  re 
serve. 

Mrs.  Zabarelli  had  stood  by  the  bed  in  breath 
less  anxiety,  apparently  unable  to  accept  the  evi 
dence  of  her  senses.  But  when  her  daughter,  with 
the  stranger's  aid,  arose  and  stood  upon  her  feet, 

240 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

she  convulsively  embraced  her  and  wept  aloud  from 

excess  of  joy. 

"Why,  it's  like  coming  to  life  again,  Filippa! 
We  thought  you  were  dead !  " 

She  stroked  her  hair  and  patted  her  cheeks,  cry 
ing  and  laughing  by  turns. 

She  soon  recovered,  however,  and,  turning  to 
Filippa's  rescuer,  who  was  replying  to  some  ques 
tion  of  Dr.  Thome's,  she  said  with  earnestness, — 

"  How  can  I  thank  you,  sir !  You  have  given  me 
back  my  daughter.  Is  there  nothing  I  can  do  to 
prove  my  gratitude?  " 

Indicating  Stephen  by  a  gesture,  he  answered, — 

:<  Yes,  by  giving  your  daughter  to  this  man. 
Henceforth  he  shall  be  worthy  of  your  confidence." 

Mrs.  Zabarelli  frowned  and  was  about  to  protest. 
But  as  she  looked  searchingly  into  the  stranger's 
face,  a  closer  study  may  have  brought  a  fuller  trust, 
or  she  also  may  have  yielded,  like  the  others,  to 
some  indefinable  personal  influence.  However, 
after  a  questioning  glance  at  Dr.  Thorne,  who 
bowed  his  head  in  emphatic  approval,  and  a  look  at 
Stephen,  whose  face  bore  a  gentler  expression  since 
the  night  before,  she  answered, — 

"  I  will  do  it." 

At  this  consent,  so  long  desired,  so  unexpected 
when  it  came,  the  incredulous  lovers  looked  in- 

241 


Dr  Thome's  Idea 

stinctively  into  each  other's  eyes  for  further  confir 
mation  of  tidings  too  good  to  be  believed.  Filippa 
turned  impulsively  and  kissed  her  mother. 

With  a  parting  word  the  stranger  moved  toward 
the  door.  Stephen  grasped  him  by  the  hand,  and 
exclaimed  with  feeling, — 

"  And  for  myself,  too,  I  don't  know  how  to  thank 
you !  I  shall  be  all  right  after  this.  I  know  it.  I 
— I  didn't  deserve  such  help/' 

Returning  the  pressure  and  looking  kindly  into 
the  lover's  eyes,  the  man  replied, — 

"  Have  no  fear.     You  will  be  master  of  yourself." 

And  he  departed. 

Dr.  Thorne  with  the  grateful  mother  followed 
him  to  the  parlor  door,  but  a  warmer  interest  drew 
Stephen  back  into  the  chamber.  Approaching  the 
girl  whose  good  opinion  he  felt  he  had  no  right  to 
claim,  he  said  in  a  low  voice, — - 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  stand  by  me,  Filippa. 
Throw  me  over  and  I  won't  say  a  word." 

She  came  nearer  and  stood  close  against  him. 
Drawing  both  hands  gently  across  his  cheeks  as  if 
to  smooth  away  all  trace  of  suffering,  she  smiled 
and  looked  up  into  his  face. 

"  Stevey  darling,  no  matter  how  bad  you  are,  or 
whatever  you  may  do,  I  forgive  you  now,  in  ad- 


242 


Dr  Thome's   Idea 

At  the  next  performance,  Monday  afternoon, 
Stephen  and  Filippa  ran  out  into  the  arena  as  usual, 
were  hoisted  to  the  upper  air,  and  there,  aloft,  upon 
the  high  trapeze,  they  excited  the  wonder  of  the 
audience. 

At  the  right  moment,  when  Filippa,  alone  and 
hanging  by  her  hands,  had  acquired  a  long,  appall 
ing  swing,  the  music  ceased. 

Then,  in  a  silence  so  profound  that  nothing  was 
heard  except  the  creaking  of  the  iron  rings  that 
held  the  two  trapezes  to  the  trusses  of  the  roof,  she 
let  go  her  hold  and  sailed  away.  Among  the  thou 
sands  of  upturned  faces  there  were  some  that  grew 
a  trifle  paler.  And  no  one  breathed. 

Steve,  head  downward,  hanging  by  his  knees 
from  the  other  trapeze,  came  soaring  up  in  that  di 
rection,  as  usual,  in  the  very  nick  of  time,  and,  as 
usual,  cool-headed  and  with  strength  to  spare.  He 
clutched  the  outstretched  hands.  The  music  burst 
madly  forth,  rejoicing,  triumphant;  Filippa  clam 
bered  to  the  bar  above,  and  Stephen  followed. 

To  and  fro  they  swung,  a  fearful  distance, 
showering  kisses  to  the  applauding  multitude  below. 

Both  were  breathing  fast.  As  they  started  on  a 
forward  journey  like  birds  above  a  field  of  human 
faces,  Filippa's  hair  flying  backward  from  her  tem 
ples,  the  artificial  rose  a-flutter,  Steve  turned  and 

243 


Dr   Thome's   Idea 

looked  into  the  eyes  beside  him.  There  was  too 
much  noise  up  there  for  conversation,  but  no  words 
were  needed,  The  short  glance  into  each  other's 
faces  revealed  all  they  had  to  say, — not  all,  of 
course,  but  the  most  important.  Her  answering 
smile  told  the  simple  story  of  an  unalterable  trust. 
And  perhaps  Stephen  made  no  mistake  in  believ 
ing  himself  the  happiest  man  in  that  vast  enclosure 
in  the  world. 


244 


Lp21A-60m-6,'69 
(J9096slO)476-A-32 


.General  Library 
University  of  Calif brni 


Berkeley 


ornia 


NEWBEGIN'S 

316-317    SUTTCR    ST. 
SAN    FRANCISCO 


